


The Seven Day Contract

by Cassy27



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Business!Tony, Dom!Tony, Dom/sub, I swear there is plot!, Light BDSM, M/M, Porn With Plot, Stony - Freeform, Thorki - Freeform, pianist!Steve, sub!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassy27/pseuds/Cassy27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Seven days,” Natasha said, her eyes switching between the two men present, “Mr. Rogers has the right to one hour of complete freedom every day. If Mr. Stark breaks the rules, I’ll be here in less than twenty minutes to kick his ass, and rest assured, I can kick his ass.”<br/>“When have I ever broken a contract?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes, “Don’t worry, Nat, I’ll take good care of him, like it says in the contract.”</p><p>For seven days, Steve agrees to be Tony's submissive. Then everything turns complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate that new movie coming out tomorrow (we all know which one) I decided to post the first chapter of my new Stony story. I hope you guys will enjoy this. I swear, there is plot here! 
> 
> Thank you, GreenLoki, for beta'ing this. What would I do without you?!

Tony Stark had forced his mind to focus on work, on words and numbers and technical drawings. It was easy at first, the words actually forming sentences and the numbers making sense. The drawings he disregarded as crap and those he dumped in the trashcan. But as seconds ticked by, seconds turning into minutes turning into hours, it became harder and harder to focus on anything except for that clock hanging above the refrigerator. Not that he was nervous. He didn’t do nerves. No, he was … excited.

When a knock came to his door, Tony jumped up and quickly shoved all the papers away in folders. Shit, they were early. His heart began to beat just a little bit faster as he hurried to the door and opened it with a swing, his eyes landing on a short, but athletic woman and a tall, muscled man carrying a duffle bag. Tony ignored Mrs. Natasha Romanov and let his gaze settle on the man instead, blatantly drinking in every detail of his appearance. He wore casual black jeans that hugged those massive thighs of his and dark blue button-up shirt Tony couldn’t wait to tear off of his body. His blond hair had been smoothed back with just the right amount of hair product and the bright blue color of his eyes was emphasized by subtle eyeliner.

“Can we come in?” Natasha asked when Tony didn’t invite them in or move. Hell, he was probably drooling, but he didn’t think Natasha would blame him. Steve Rogers was hotter than Tony remembered him to be.

“Oh, yes,” He fumbled, stepping aside and letting the two enter his penthouse. He used the opportunity to observe the back of the man, noting the strong line of his back and the broadness of his shoulders. He had a slim waist, narrow hips, which made Tony suck his lower lip into his mouth and bite down on it. “Have a seat,” He said casually, motioning towards the couch.

“I can’t stay long,” Natasha said. She set down her briefcase beside her on the couch and took out a bundle of papers. “If it’s alright for the two of you, I’m just going to lay out the basic rules and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Okay,” Steve Rogers said as he sat down, too.

His voice was just as Tony remembered, only it had a barely noticeable tremble to it now. He’d met the man exactly once two weeks ago, and ever since, he’d been hoping to hear that deep, vibrating voice again, and hell, that slight tremble made him enjoy his voice all the more. Steve was nervous, Tony could tell, and his hands just itched to put him at ease. “We know the rules, Nat,” He said, deciding to focus on her since it wouldn’t be very appropriate to get all aroused already. It would be a bit embarrassing, too. He wasn’t _that_ desperate.

Moving to the bar, he grabbed three glasses and filled them with one of his better whiskeys. He knew Natasha liked the brand, but he didn’t know if Steve was keen on whiskey. He figured he’d learn that detail soon enough. “Drinks?” He asked as he walked back to them and held out two glasses for his guests to take.

“No thank you,” Natasha said, sending a tight look in Tony’s direction, “I don’t drink on the job. And I know you know the rules, but I also know you.”

“That stings,” Tony said. Steve had taken his glass, Tony secretly very happy about that, and sipped from the whiskey Natasha refused to accept. He sat down on the couch opposite of his guests, only a low, glass coffee table separating them.

At his comment, Natasha chuckled. “Seven days,” She said, her eyes switching between the two men present, “Mr. Rogers has the right to one hour of complete freedom every day.” She focused on Steve sitting to her left. “During that hour, you call me and assure me everything is going according to the contract. If Mr. Stark over there breaks it, I’ll be here in less than twenty minutes to kick his ass, and rest assured, I _can_ kick his ass.”

“When have I ever broken a contract?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes, “Don’t worry, Nat, I’ll take good care of him, like it says in the contract.” He spread an arm along the ridge of the couch and shot a grin towards Natasha. “How’s Clint?”

“He’s fine,” Natasha replied absently. She shifted through the papers again to make sure everything was in order before holding out a copy of the contract for Tony to take. “I’ll come and pick him up next week, same day, same hour.”

“Marvelous,” Tony beamed.

Natasha rose from her seat, Steve rising with her – because apparently he was a gentleman. She picked up her briefcase. “You two have fun,” She said with a wicked smile curving the edges of her full, red lips upwards. She was a beautiful woman and Tony had always considered Clint to be a lucky man. And Natasha was a lucky woman to have Clint. “I’ll show myself out.”

Tony, along with Steve, watched Natasha leave the penthouse. He really liked her, hell, she was one of his closest friends, but right now, he was glad she was gone. He moved his arm along the back couch and shifted in his seat, using the opportunity to take in the gorgeousness that was Steve Rogers. “Let me show you to your room,” He said suddenly, drawing Steve’s attention back to him. The man was definitely nervous, which was only normal and natural. He was in an unknown penthouse with a man he didn’t really know. It was Tony’s job to put him at ease, and since this wasn’t his first rodeo, he knew just how to do that. He wondered if this was Steve’s first rodeo. “Come on,” He said as he stood and crossed the living room.

Steve trailed after him, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, his hand gripping the strap tightly. Tony wondered if he was a talkative guy, because so far, he’d said all but one word. The first and last time they met, he hadn’t been exactly talkative either. Maybe that was a good thing. They weren’t really here to talk after all.

Tony walked him into the guest room. “Here we are,” He said, “The bathroom is right through that door. You can settle in. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Okay,” Steve said.

Tony was starting to think that that word was either the only word in Steve’s vocabulary or it was his favorite word. “I know the first evening, hell, the first two days or something, can be awkward. So let’s get rid of that awkwardness.” At that, Steve’s bright blue eyes settled on him, uncertain, but very much interested. Good. “I want you back in the living room in thirty minutes.”

Steve nodded once.

“Perfect,” Tony smiled brilliantly, “We’ll lay down the real rules then.”

-x-x-x-

When the door closed behind Tony with a soft click, Steve released a breath he hadn’t known to be holding. He felt uneasy, a knot having formed in his stomach, but at the same time, there was excitement coursing through his veins, the kind of excitement he hadn’t felt in months. Tossing the duffle bag aside, Steve began to explore the bedroom. It was huge, twice the size of his bedroom at home with a king-sized bed covered with heavenly looking Egyptian cotton sheets. The bathroom was equally huge with a Jacuzzi and a walk-in shower that could easily fit three people. He wondered if it had ever fit three people.

Steve turned on the faucet above the pearly white sink – it surprised him it wasn’t made of gold or something – and splashed some cold water onto his face, needing to cool down a bit. He ran his wet hand through his hair and settled it against the back of his neck for a moment, head down and eyes closed until the mirror in front of him, showing him his own reflection, drew Steve’s attention. He looked into his own eyes and easily spotted tension in them, as well as impatience. He wanted those thirty minutes to be over already. Maybe he should just go back out to the living room, but then … he didn’t want to appear overly eager.

Having freshened up, he returned to the bedroom and started unpacking his duffle bag. It didn’t take long since he was only here to stay for a week. He’d brought a fresh shirt for each day, enough clean underwear to get through a month, and three different pairs of jeans which he hoped would be enough. If it wasn’t, he’d just have to get more during his free hour. As he neatly stacked his clothes in the giant walk-in closet, Steve kept a firm eye on his wristwatch.

Much to his surprise, the thirty minutes flew by. Steve knew what was expected of him now. He sucked in a deep breath, steadying himself, because this was it. This was what he wanted. There had been weeks of indecisiveness, weeks of pulling up Mrs. Romanov’s phone number without actually calling her until Bucky had been sick of it and called her for him. Bucky had said it had been the right thing to do, that Steve needed to blow off some steam and that this was the perfect way for it. Steve really hoped he was right.

Slowly, bare footed, the coldness of the tiles beneath his feet making him feel more alert, he returned to the living room to find Tony Stark sitting in the middle of the couch, one arm draped over the edge like he had before, a drink in his other hand. Everything about him screamed power. It had radiated off of him the moment he’d opened the door and it had thrown Steve off balance, had caused his mind to run in circles, unable to come up with a single, decent thing to say. And right now, Tony sat with one ankle crossed casually over his other knee, his thighs spread wide, and Steve had a feeling that wasn’t an accident.

He moved to stand in front of Tony, faintly noticing the glass coffee table had been pushed aside to make room. His hands twitched awkwardly beside his body, unsure of what he was supposed to do with them. It felt uncomfortable to stand in front of Tony, restlessness claiming every fiber of his being, but then those dark brown eyes practically ravaged his body, and somehow Steve felt more at ease. They were steadily falling into their roles, both of them knowing exactly what part they had to play.

“God, aren’t you just … hot,” Tony breathed. The hand around his glass of whiskey tightened, and Steve could tell he was straining to control himself. A part of him wanted Tony to lose control, just to see what would happen. “I want to see you,” Tony said, his dark eyes locking with Steve’s light ones, “Strip.”

It sent a shiver down his spine, a good one. With shaking hands, Steve unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop to the floor. He could feel Tony’s eyes burn his skin, the man shifting where he sat, and the corners of Steve’s lips curved upward when he noticed the growing bulge to Tony’s trousers. It was good to know he had such a strong effect on him. With hands not shaking as much anymore, confidence slowly spreading through his system, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his hips until they pooled around his ankles. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

“What a lovely sight,” Tony sighed, head tilting a little so he could get a better view of Steve’s naked body. He shifted a hand to his crotch, pressing down in a not so subtle way to relieve some of the pressure that was without doubt building, his cock straining against the confinements of his trousers. “Turn around.”

Slowly, all restlessness and tension dissipating from his veins, Steve turned on the heels of his feet, arms spread a bit, wanting to give Tony a nice, long look of his body. This was the first time he saw it, after all, and he was the center of Tony’s attention. That thought caused his cock to stir. It felt good to be lavished with this kind of attention and it felt good to be told what to do. He’d missed this more than he realized.

“Come here,” Tony said once Steve finished turning. He sat up a bit more and planted both feet firmly onto the carpet, his legs spread wide, inviting Steve between them. Steve swallowed heavily, but obeyed, stepping in between Tony’s thighs and sinking down to his knees. Tony curled a hand through his still slightly damp hair.

“I’m your Master for the next seven days,” He said, his voice thick with lust, yet it still commanded nothing but respect and obedience. He trailed his fingers through Steve’s hair, smoothing it back, playing with the ends. “You’ll call me as such and obey my every rule. Do you remember your safe-word?”

Steve could only nod, not trusting his voice. He probably didn’t even have enough air in his lungs to produce any decent words, anyway. Tony’s hand moved to the side of his face, the rough tips of his fingers trailing the sharp line of his jaw, and Steve couldn’t help but lean into his touch like a touch-starved boy.

“Great,” Tony smiled, “Now let’s get this awkward first time over with.”

Tony withdrew his hand, and Steve actually groaned at the sudden loss for which he cursed himself. It was one thing to submit, it was a whole other thing to show his desperate eagerness and longing. He watched, with his breath still caught inside his chest, as Tony unbuckled his belt and zipped open his trousers, pushing them down just far enough to free his hard length. Steve’s mouth watered at the sight. Tony was big, long and thick, and Steve couldn’t begin to imagine what it would feel like to have that length inside of him. Just the thought had his cock twitch heavily against his thigh.

“Take it in your mouth, make it wet,” Tony said.

Steve didn’t even hesitate, which shocked him, but there was just something inside of him that couldn’t disobey such a direct order. He leaned forward, Tony’s musk filling his nostrils, causing his eyes to flutter shut. He licked at Tony’s cock, tasting him and tracing the thick, throbbing vein. Tony groaned loudly and let his head fall back. It spurred Steve on, wanting more of that reaction from Tony. He moved to the tip of Tony’s cock and sucking it into his mouth, his tongue licking across the leaking slit. He tasted salty. Steve took more of him into his mouth, swallowing him down, feeling the hardness rest heavily on his tongue.

Tony bucked his hips upward, seeking more of Steve’s warm and wet mouth, and Steve gagged a little. The act felt uncomfortable and his throat was already sore since he hadn’t given head in such a very long time, but he refused to disappoint the man during their first round. He moaned around Tony’s length, focused on relaxing his throat, and letting his tongue swirl around the underside of Tony’s cock, getting it as slick and wet as possible.

“Oh fuck,” Tony breathed. He picked up his head and looked down at Steve, watching him lick and suck with such willingness that it nearly made him cum right then and there – Steve could tell by the way his cock spurted a little pre-cum onto his tongue. “You’re good at this, so fucking _good_ ,” He fumbled, yet somehow he still managed to sound dark and deep and in complete control over every single action, “You’re a good pet.”

The term of endearment and the praise of his Master nearly made Steve cum. He shifted his hips, seeking friction himself, his cock painfully neglected between his legs, but it wasn’t enough. He craved more of Tony’s touches, which was enough to cause his stomach to double-flip, because he didn’t know Tony, had been in his presence for exactly an hour, and he was already desperate for his hands on his body. Then again, Natasha did warn him that Tony was a good Master.

“Enough,” Tony said, gently pushing Steve’s head away and sighing in complaint at the loss of his mouth. Steve, with his swollen lips parted, as if he wanted to remain ready to take Tony’s cock in his mouth again, sat back and looked up at Tony, waiting. “On your hands and knees,” This time, Tony sounded less in control of himself.

Steve turned around and gripped the carpet beneath his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white. When he felt Tony’s clothed thighs brush his naked ones, he let his head fall forward and bit down on his tongue, not wanting to produce a single sound, but when Tony’s hand brushed down his back, a muffled groan escaped his lips. Tony chuckled and let a finger dip down the crease of Steve’s ass.

Tony leaned forward. “Don’t hold back,” He whispered into his ear, “I like hearing you.”

Every muscle inside Steve’s body trembled at the sound of that voice, that deep, vibrating, demanding voice. His eyes fluttered shut and Steve spread his knees a bit more, inviting his Master to touch him, stretch him, _take_ him. God, he needed him, needed all his choices stripped away, needed Tony to numb his mind and spark his body. Bucky had been right all along; this was exactly what he needed.

“That’s it,” Tony praised, because apparently Steve no longer had control over his voice and was making soft, whiny noises. Tony circled Steve’s dry, puckered hole, which hadn’t been used and abused in so very long. “God, you’re tight.” Without any preamble, he pushed in one finger, Steve instinctively pushing his hips back, needing more. “And eager,” He chuckled.

“Please … To-Master …” Steve didn’t know what to do with himself, didn’t know how to twist and turn in order to find the release he craved, but Tony wasn’t cruel or merciless. He pushed in another finger, scissoring him and preparing him for something much bigger. It had been so long ago, however, since he’d been with another man, and Steve was starting to doubt he could take it. And his previous Master hadn’t been as big as Tony was either. The shiver that ran down his back wasn’t caused by excitement or arousal this time. Tension slipped back into his muscles, and apparently, Tony sensed it.

“It’s okay,” He told Steve, his lips brushed the back of his neck, “Let go, Steve.”

Steve nodded and kept his eyes closed, focusing on nothing but Tony, on his Master’s touch and on the feeling of his calloused fingers slowly working him loose. And then they were gone. Steve groaned at the loss and bucked his hips back, as if he could find them and get them inside of him again, but there was nothing. Curious and nervous, he glanced over his shoulder and found Tony putting on a condom and lubing it up – where he got it from, Steve didn’t know, nor did he care.

Tony rested one hand against Steve’s hip, his nails digging deep into his skin. With his other hand, he guided the tip of his cock to Steve’s hole, nudging it, not yet pushing in. Steve didn’t know what to do, whether to be desperate to be fucked hard and deep or to be frightened, because he wasn’t sure he could already take Tony’s cock. Not that he was given the choice.

He drew in a loud and sharp breath when Tony shoved all the way in with one fluent motion. Steve threw his head back and parted his lips in a silent cry. “Oh God,” He breathed, unsure of how to handle himself as his body was desperately trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion, “Oh God, _oh God_.”

“You can take it, Steve,” Tony said. He kissed his way down Steve’s shoulder while Steve curved an arm back and sought balance by grasping Tony’s short, brown hair. He was only faintly aware that he was pulling at it, that this couldn’t possibly be pleasant for Tony, but Tony didn’t say anything nor did he push Steve’s hand away. “Relax,” Tony said instead, lips brushing the shell of Steve’s ear, “Calm down.”

His heart was racing within his chest, his lungs burning as too much oxygen filled them. He was on the verge of hyperventilating and Steve didn’t think he could stay on his knees, but Tony held him up with one arm curled around his waist, his back pressed firmly against Tony’s stomach.

“Steve, relax, _now_ ,” Tony commanded.

The order was given so firmly, so directly, that Steve instantly felt his muscles loosening up, the grip he had on Tony’s hair softening, but he didn’t let go just yet. He shifted his hips experimentally, feeling nothing but a painful burning sensation, but as seconds ticked by, Tony simply holding him and not moving, Steve could feel his ass adjusting to the width inside of him.

“That’s it,” Tony said, smiling against Steve’s shoulder, “I’m going to fuck you now, Steve.”

Steve managed one nod before Tony pulled out and slammed back in, drawing a high cry from Steve’s lips. That hurt. That hurt so damn _good_. The hand previously tangled in Tony’s hair slipped away and sought for something new to hold onto as Tony fucked him from behind, hard and rough, taking and taking. When he found nothing to hold, Tony intertwined a hand with his and pressed it against Steve’s chest. His other arm remained curled around Steve’s middle, keeping him in place.

With every thrust Tony gave, Steve could feel his own orgasm drawing near, his cock slapping against his stomach each time Tony slammed home. A thousand stars danced before his vision, pleasure and pain blurring together and wrecking his body, and _God,_ he wanted to cum, wanted to cum _now_ , but he couldn’t touch himself without the risk of falling down, nor did he think Tony would allow it. Instead, he moaned loudly, wanting Tony to hear his need, which was apparently just what Tony needed to be driven over the edge.

Steve felt Tony’s cock twitch inside of him and his body stilled above him, his groin pressed firmly against Steve’s ass. Steve wished he could feel his Master’s warm seed fill his insides, but the condom prevented that.

“I knew you could take it,” Tony said with pride in his voice, causing Steve’s chest to tighten, the praise of his Master nearly enough to make him cum, too. Nearly.

He glanced down at his leaking cock, pre-cum dripping onto the carpet below him. For one brief moment, he thought Tony wasn’t going to grant him any release, until he pulled his hand away from Steve’s and wrapped it around Steve’s hard cock instead, pumping him.

“Your turn,” Tony said darkly before sinking his teeth into the junction between Steve’s neck and shoulder, “Cum for me, pet.”

Hearing those words were enough. Steve’s cock spurted within Tony’s hand, his head falling sideways against Tony’s as the final waves of pleasure flooded his body. Unintelligible words and meaningless sounds escaped his lips as Tony worked him through the orgasm before overstimulation threatened to overwhelm him, hurt him. Tony’s hand held Steve’s cock with a tight grip, both of them still, unmoving, the silence only broken by their heavy breathing. Steve could feel Tony’s frantic heartbeat against his back.

Eventually, after what had to be a minute, Tony pulled out of him, Steve groaning at the loss. His limbs were trembling, struggling to keep him up. If he moved, Steve knew he was going to fall, so he didn’t just yet. And he hadn’t been given permission to move either. He focused on his breathing instead, giving his body a moment to regain some of its strength. Truly, he hadn’t been fucked like that since he last visited one of those high-end BDSM-clubs. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to visit such a club with Tony.

Having been distracted by the idea, he hadn’t heard Tony kneel down beside him and he definitely hadn’t expected his warm hand to shift through his short, blond hair. Steve’s first instinct was to pull away, his mind too dazed to fully understand what was happening around him.

“It’s alright,” Tony murmured to him, moving close, nuzzling the crook of Steve’s neck, “Come back.”

Oh. Steve hadn’t realized he’d slipped into subspace for a moment there. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on his surroundings, only to settle on Tony’s hand still carding through his hair. “That was …” There wasn’t a proper word to describe it, “It was definitely a good way to get rid of any awkwardness.”

Tony chuckled and backed away, grabbing hold of Steve’s arms and pulling him up to his feet. “Let’s get some food in your stomach,” He said, “You look like you’re close to passing out.”

He felt close to passing out, but he didn’t say that out loud. “Food would be nice,” He decided on.

The smile that filled Tony’s features was enough to make Steve’s knees nearly give out beneath him. Honestly, he’d noticed Tony Stark was a handsome man, of course, had noticed it the first time they met to see if they were a good match, but now that he stood before him, smiling like that, Steve realized Tony was more than handsome. He was beautiful, regal almost. It explained why power radiated off of him with such ease.

“I hope you like pizza.”

Steve just nodded.

-x-x-x-

Tony picked up Steve’s clothes and held them out for the man to take. “Go clean up,” He said, nodding his head towards the hallway that would lead Steve back to his bedroom, “I’m gonna disappear into the bathroom for a second myself, and then I’ll put a pizza in the oven.”

“Okay,” Steve said.

Really, Tony was starting to like that word coming from Steve’s lips – lips that were still a bit swollen after he had his mouth fucked. Tony reached up and brushed the soft pad of his thumb against them, noticing how Steve tensed a bit, but he didn’t pull away which made Tony smile faintly. “You should brush your teeth, too,” He added as an after-thought.

Steve lowered his head a little, clearly wanting to hide a light blush creeping up his cheeks. “Okay,” He said again before he padded through the living room, his clothes still in his hands. Tony watched him go, eagerly looking at that fine ass he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into. He’d get the chance to do that soon. They had a whole week to do everything and anything they wanted.

Without bothering to tuck himself away, Tony disappeared into the master bedroom and headed into the adjacent bathroom. He cleaned himself up, using cold water and soap, and changed trousers since the ones he was wearing were stained with cum. When he got back to the living room, Steve hadn’t yet returned.

Tony contemplated on checking up on him, wanting to make sure he was alright, because they had just fucked and this was their first time, so it could get emotional. And he’d been kinda rough on him, which Tony regretted. It hadn’t intentional, but when Steve had gotten on his knees, presenting his ass like that, Tony hadn’t been able to hold back. He would have to work on that in the future.

He was popping the pizza in the oven when he heard footsteps behind him. Tony closed the oven, checked the temperature a final time, and turned around. Steve stood fully dressed in the doorway, his hands once again awkwardly beside his body. A part of Tony wanted to tell Steve to get rid of his clothes again, wanted him naked at all times, but it was too soon for something like that.

“Want a drink?” He asked, already moving to the refrigerator. “Water? A beer?”

“Just water, please,” Steve said.

Tony grabbed a bottle and held it out for Steve to take which he did.

“You got everything in your room?” Tony asked. The first round of sex could be awkward, which was why Tony always got that out of the way as quickly as possible, but the first round of after-sex-talk could get equally as awkward. He hadn’t yet figured out a way to get rid of that. He’d once gagged his partner in order to avoid conversation, but that had ended up rather awkward, too.

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. He opened the bottle and took a small sip.

Oh fuck this. Tony inhaled deeply, prepared himself, and decided to dive in, head first. “You were tight,” He said. Steve nearly choked on his water. He pressed the back of his hand against his lips, hoping to keep the water in his mouth. Tony barely refrained himself from smirking. “I mean it,” He continued, leaning back against the kitchen counter, “How long ago has it been?”

Thoughtfully, clearing his throat, Steve twistedthe cap back onthe bottle. “Uhm, a while,” He said.

“I could tell,” Tony said. There wasn’t anything accusative in his voice, nor did he sound patronizing. He was just stating a fact. “Follow me,” He said, waving a hand towards Steve, telling him, no, _ordering_ him to follow him out of the spacious kitchen and through the hallway. He led Steve into his bedroom, the man halting once inside, his light blue eyes taking in the new room.

Tony bent down and opened the bottom drawer of an ebony dresser by the window. He hoped Steve couldn’t see the contents. One day, somewhere during the next seven days, he hoped to show him all of these, but not now, not yet. Picking up the item he wanted, he closed the drawer with his foot and turned back to Steve, who had wandered deeper into the room, his fingers trailing along the whitewall as if he were afraid to stray too far away from it.

He lifted the toy, Steve’s gaze landing on it, his eyes widening, and his body growing very still.

“I want this inside of you,” Tony said, twisting the butt-plug between his fingers, “To stretch you and loosen you up so I won’t have to do it myself every time.”

Steve visibly swallowed, hesitance in his bright blue eyes. He looked about ready to flee from the room.

Slowly, carefully, Tony approached him, stepping around the bed and hiding the toy behind his back since it was obviously freaking Steve out, his gaze going everywhere. “Look at me,” He said, “Look into my eyes.” He kept his voice low, using it as a tool to lure Steve’s attention back to him, just him.

Steve stood with his back pressed against the wall, his hands behind his back.

Tony moved to stand directly in front of him, paused, and then pressed his body flush against Steve’s. He could feel every curve of Steve’s body against his, could feel the distressed rise and fall of his chest, could feel the tension of his stomach. His free hand moved to the side of Steve’s neck, feeling his racing heartbeat beneath the tips of his fingers.

“Steve,” He said, looking directly at the man, “Let go.” Those two short words didn’t have the same result as earlier. Tony shifted his hand higher and curled his fingers into Steve’s hair, tugging at it a little and forcing Steve’s head down until his forehead rested against his. “I am your Master,” He added, his grip on Steve’s hair unrelenting, “And I demand that you let. Go.”

Steve’s eyes fell shut and a ripple moved through his body, Tony could feel it with how close they were standing. “Yes, Master,” He said softly. Tony could tell Steve hadn’t yet submitted, not completely, but that was okay. This was their first evening together and they could ease into things, but at the same time, Tony was fully aware that he was forcing Steve’s hand, testing his limits, testing _him_ , and so far, he was passing every test with flying colors.

“Now go put it in,” He said, lifting the butt-plug, watching Steve open his eyes and stare at the toy. “There’s lube in the top drawer under the sink in your bathroom.” Reluctantly, he drew back from Steve, though his hand stayed curled into his hair for a moment longer. “Then we can eat.”

Steve nodded once, jerkily, unsteadily. “Okay,” He said.

 _Yes_ , Tony thought as a smile curved the edges of his lips upwards, pride filling him as Steve’s hand curled around the plug, _he definitely liked that word coming from Steve’s lips._


	2. Monday

He’d slept surprisingly well, though maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise at all. Those Egyptian cotton sheets were the softest he’d ever felt and the pillow had been filled with actual feathers. It had been hard to leave the bed, but as sounds drifted into his bedroom, pots and pans being moved around, followed by the delicious smell of eggs and bacon, Steve had forced himself to get up and jump into the shower.

Wearing tight, black jeans and a grey shirt – all a very conscious decision – he sauntered through the penthouse, using the opportunity to study every room he passed, only to come to the conclusion that there was really very little to study. There were a few art-pieces in the living room and a large painting above the fireplace that drew his attention for a minute, but there weren’t any pictures around, nor were there magazines or anything at all really to indicate someone actually lived here.

Eventually, Steve moved into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, his hands casually folded behind his back. “This smells good,” He commented as a way of announcing his presence. His stomach rumbled when the smell of breakfast hit his nose more strongly this time.

Tony turned away from the stove, a wooden spoon in hand and a smile on his face. He wore loose pajama-pants and a white T-shirt that hugged his torso, revealing every muscle of his abdomen, and there was no mistaking it; Tony Stark might be smaller than and not as broad as Steve, but his limbs and stomach were lined with hard muscles. “Good morning,” The man greeted him cheerfully, though his dark brown eyes moved up and down Steve’s body, blatantly taking in the outfit, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Steve said, nodding, but unsure what he was supposed to do now. Should he take a seat at the kitchen table? Was he even allowed to take a seat? His uncertainty was apparently painted clearly on his face, because Tony put down the wooden spoon and walked around table towards him with a hint of amusement in his eyes as if he found him adorable. That thought was enough to have a blush spread across Steve’s cheeks. He did _not_ want to be adorable.

“So what do you usually have for breakfast?” Tony asked, but the tone in his voice indicated that he wasn’t actually interested in the answer to that question. Steve said nothing in return as Tony closed in on him with slow and calculated steps. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, meaningfully. “I can give you any breakfast you’d like,” He added. Once he stood directly in front of Steve, he lifted a hand and casually placed it on top of Steve’s broad chest.

Steve licked his lips and tried to come up with a good answer to that, but his mind was already scrambled what with Tony standing so close, his warm breath on his face and his hand slipping down his chest, nails scratching his shirt. He swallowed heavily and cast down his eyes. “I uhm–” He started, and great, now he was making a fool of himself in front of his Master.

And there was no doubt that Tony could feel the racing of his heart as well as the slight tremble of his limbs, but those reactions were instinctual, what with that predatory look on Tony’s face as if he was ready to devour him, to tear him apart inch by inch. And _God_ , Steve would let him. The idea of being at the mercy of Tony’s hand, of being ripped apart by him and put back together, had heat spreading across his body and pooling in his crotch.

Tony’s hand slipped further down until it reached the waistband of Steve’s jeans, two fingers dipping underneath it. Steve’s mouth turned dry. Excitement claimed his body, filled his muscles to the point where they ached, and it drove him insane. Tony’s touch had such a strong effect on him that it threw Steve off, but he refused to think too much about it. He just wanted Tony to keep touching him.

Because of the small, satisfying smile tugging at the corners of Tony’s lips, Steve knew he had checked to see if he was wearing any underwear, and the answer obviously pleased him. And when those fingers dipped even lower, brushing the short, soft hairs of Steve’s pubic area, Steve had to bite away a moan.

Tony’s hand moved to the small of his back, the loss of Tony’s touch near his crotch, filling him with something akin to frustration, but Steve wasn’t given the opportunity to express the sentiment, certainly not when Tony kneaded the flesh of Steve’s back before moving down the swell of his ass, fingers tracing the seam of his slim, black jeans. He pressed down suddenly, and Steve shuddered, the first ripples of pleasure taking him off guard, his cock stirring inside his jeans. Tony chuckled at Steve’s blatant reaction and continued to press down with a circular motion, causing the butt-plug to twist inside of Steve’s ass.

No longer in control over his body, Steve gripped Tony’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and dropped his head onto his shoulder as Tony continued to play with the plug through his jeans. His cock was straining against its confinements, achingly hard, and Steve thrust his hips forward, rubbing his crotch against Tony’s thigh. The pressure was almost enough to make him cum in his pants like a fucking thirteen year old.

Tony leaned forward until his lips brushed the side of Steve’s neck. “You’re lucky you’re wearing it,” He breathed softly, huskily.

Steve nodded, his eyes, now dark with desire, fluttered shut. “Of course,” He said, “I do as you ask, Master.” He thrust his hips forward and groaned at the realization that he was basically humping Tony’s leg, but he couldn’t stop, not as long as Tony continued to push the plug deeper inside of him. “Please …” He didn’t even know what he was begging for. To be touched? To be fucked?

“No,” Tony said, brusquely pulling away from Steve, “Not yet.” He placed his hands to either side of Steve’s face and forced him to look into his eyes. Steve thought he was going to fall, but Tony’s hands gripped him tightly and forced him to stand still. “We’re going to have breakfast first,” His brown eyes darkened with wickedness, “And then for desert, you’re going to get down on your knees and suck my cock.”

Steve’s hands gripped the edge of Tony’s shirt with a desperation he hadn’t felt in months. “I could suck you now,” He said. He felt surprised and shocked to hear his own voice thick with arousal and wanton. “Let me pleasure you, Master.” It would give _him_ pleasure, too, he knew, and right now, he was willing to go far to relieve some of the pressure to his crotch. Slowly, seductively, he lowered his hands, wanting to push down Tony’s pajama-pants, but Tony latched onto his wrists, stopping him.

“Breakfast first,” Tony said curtly, using his Master-voice which Steve simply couldn’t disobey.

Reluctantly, he nodded and dropped his hands once Tony let go of them. Tony moved back to the stove – Steve watching him closely, not yet able to move – and filled two plates with eggs and bacon. With a sigh and a brush of his hands over his crotch in the hopes to relieve some of the pressure, he moved to sit at the table, wincing when the plug pressed against his prostate in the process. But knowing that it was inside of him so his Master could have him whenever, it sent electricity through his veins, his body heating up at the mere thought of Tony bending him over the table and fucking him.

Tony set a plate down in front of Steve and brushed a hand through his blond hair. He bowed down and pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve’s lips, Steve who instantly turned his head and claimed Tony’s mouth, his tongue tracing the seam of Tony’s lips. Tony chuckled into his mouth, but he allowed the kiss, parting his lips to let Steve in.

“You’re a good pet,” He said once the kiss ended. His hands slid through Steve’s hair, to the back of his neck. Steve closed his eyes and focused on nothing but that touch. If only Tony knew how much he wanted that hand on the rest of his body. “Don’t worry,” Tony assured him, “The wait will make it better. Now eat. These eggs are my specialty.”

They really were his specialty as it turned out, because they were delicious. Steve ate quickly, not having realized just how hungry he was. It took him a few minutes to catch the well-meant smile from Tony, Steve’s cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” He said, slowing down his pace. It had been so long since he’d been in the care of a Master that he’d apparently forgotten how to behave around one. It felt strange and alien, yet he craved more. He’d thank Bucky for calling Mrs. Romanov, but then he’d never hear the end of it.

Tony cleared the table fifteen minutes later and dumped the dishes into the sink with a few words of I’ll-do-them-later. Steve watched him closely, observing how smoothly the man moved around the kitchen, his footsteps barely making a sound. He waited for Tony’s attention to shift back to him, and when those dark eyes finally landed on his form again, Steve inhaled deeply, steadying himself. This was what he’d been waiting for.

“I’m ready for my desert now,” He said, looking up at Tony from underneath dark eyelashes.

Tony didn’t say anything. He simply leaned back against the kitchen counter and shuffled his feet further apart. It was as good of an invite as any, and Steve slid off his chair, groaning as the plug prodded his prostate again. He sank down to his knees in front of his Master and, with gentle fingers, tugged at the waistband of Tony’s cotton pants. Lust thrummed through his body at the sight of Tony’s hard cock which curved beautifully against his thigh.

Steve licked his lips, preparing to take the long and thick length into his mouth. He cupped Tony’s balls and squeezed softly, enjoying the muffled sounds coming from Tony’s lips. He’d tasted Tony before and just the idea of getting to taste him again, to feel that hard and heavy weight on his tongue again, had Steve’s heart skip a beat. He leaned forward and nuzzled the hairs above Tony’s cock, inhaling deeply and submerging himself in everything that was his Master.

A modern version of the Star Wars theme filled the kitchen suddenly.

“Oh, shit,” Tony cursed, “Shit, _shit,_ hold on.”

That was unexpected. Steve glanced up, confused, and watched Tony grab his cell phone from the counter nearby.

“Fuck I gotta take this,” Tony said regretfully. He ran his fingers through Steve’s hair – something he apparently really liked to do because he did it so often – and pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He pulled his pants back up, much to Steve’s regret. “Why don’t you head into the living room and I’ll meet you there in five.”

Steve didn’t have another choice. He stood, cleared his throat, his mind searching for something appropriate to say, only to end up nodding and saying nothing at all, not even when Tony shot him another apologetic look. Steve turned away from him and headed into the living room where he was left on his own with a raging hardness in his jeans. He contemplated on jerking off by himself, but then … He didn’t want to disappoint his Master, and Tony _was_ right. The wait only made it better.

Adjusting his jeans a bit, hoping his erection would go away given enough time, Steve walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window that granted the most spectacular view of the city’s skyline. He hadn’t noticed that before, though he had been rather focused on other things yesterday. From where he stood, he could see the Statue of Liberty to the left and Ellis Island to his right, the Hudson River separating them, and below him, the street swarmed with cars and taxis that looked like tiny toy cars from where he stood.

Steve had never liked New York City, had found it too big and too loud and too busy, but from Tony’s penthouse, it all looked astonishingly serene. There was nothing but silence, and Steve understood why Tony lived here. He didn’t know how long he stood by the window for, mesmerized by the city stretching out before him, and he certainly hadn’t heard Tony approach.

“Pretty amazing, huh?”

Steve spun around to find Tony standing a few feet behind him, his cell phone still in hand.

“I gotta head to work,” He said, twisting the phone around, “Pepper called to tell me that we’re finally getting a contract with the government, so I have to go put my signature on the papers before they change their minds.”

It could mean anything, and Steve wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself by saying something stupid. Tony having to go to work could mean he had to stay here for a while. It could also mean he would have to leave the penthouse for a few hours should Tony not trust him enough. Or there was a third option where Steve could go with him. In any case, Steve wasn’t going to make any assumptions. “Okay,” He said, waiting on Tony to tell him more.

“You could uhm–” Tony stopped himself and looked around gawkily. Steve hadn’t seen him so … self-conscious before, but on the other hand, they’d only been together for a few hours. He didn’t really know Tony. “You could come with me or stay here. I don’t know. What would you like?”

The idea of staying behind alone in this penthouse didn’t sit well with Steve. Somehow, he’d feel like an intruder despite their arrangements. Besides, he had a feeling he’d be bored really quickly since there wasn’t much around to look at. There weren’t even any books he could read, unless this penthouse had a separate library, but he doubted that.

“I’d like to come with you if that’s okay,” He decided, because who was he kidding? The idea of being separated from his Master made his gut twist uncomfortably. It was funny how quickly he had gotten attached to Tony, to his Master, how quickly he was willing to submit to him and follow him wherever – for a week. Then they would go their separate ways again.

“Great,” Tony said, smiling, Steve’s answer obviously pleasing him, “Let me get dressed and we’ll be on our way.”

-x-x-x-

In Malibu, Tony had a wide range of cars, from classic Audi’s to flamboyant Bugatti’s. Here in New York, he had one; a black SUV with tinted windows and an engine to die for, but Steve hadn’t made any remark on it. It led Tony to the conclusion that Steve wasn’t really interested in cars, which kinda suited him, but it left Tony wondering what did interest him. The thought startled him. He’d never been particularly interested in his submissive’s hobbies, but there was just something about Steve that drew him in.

He navigated his way through the busy streets of New York and, when traffic allowed it, he occasionally cast a glance into his companion’s direction, each time finding Steve looking out of the window, drinking in the city, seemingly lost in thought.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

Steve’s gaze locked with Tony’s for a moment. “Not really no,” He answered, his gaze shifting back towards the city, “I grew up in Brooklyn, never came to the big city except for a few short visits. It’s too … crowded for me, too loud.”

That Tony could understand. “It takes some getting used to, I suppose,” He said with a shrug. He’d been living in New York for so long now that he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. He’d made this lively, vibrant city his home. Sure, sometimes he turned reminiscent of his old home in Philadelphia, but when he’d just been a boy he’d made a pact with himself not to dwell on the past for too long.

He maneuvered the car down Broadway and took a left turn into Thames Street. Steve’s eyes occasionally turned to him; Tony could feel them like a burn on his skin then.

“If there’s something you want to ask,” He said when he caught the thoughtful look on his face, “Just ask.”

He was used to people trying to uncover every small detail of his life, especially now that he was steadily becoming a bigger, more important businessman. Not that anyone ever found out everything about him. There were some things he desperately kept to himself.

“I just realized–” Steve started, then hesitated.

“Come on, spit it out,” Tony said, sending Steve a quick, stern look.

“Well, you have your own company,” Steve started, blurting out the words, “You’re a CEO and you live in a penthouse in New York City which means you make quite a lot of money, and I just wondered what kind of company you run.” He sucked in a deep breath when he was done and held it in, as if waiting for the inevitable blow of Tony telling him off for being so curious.

Tony sent him a reassuring look. “It’s called Stark Industries,” He explained as he drove them down Leonard Street, “I founded it when I graduated college. It was just something I organized out of my old garage, but it kept getting bigger and bigger. Now we invent new electrical and engineering technology, as well as weapons, which is the reason why the government is finally getting interested.”

“Oh,” Steve said, looking down as if he should have known that answer.

Tony parked the car in front of a tall building completely made out of glass. It was brand new, the construction only finished last December, and Tony was rather proud of it. It was _his_ building, even had his name on it. They got out, and Tony couldn’t help but grin like a fool when Steve seemed momentarily dumbfounded, his gaze shifting up all eighty levels of the building belonging to him.

“Welcome to Stark Industries,” He said.

He walked by Steve and slapped him on the back, telling him to stop staring already and follow him inside. They rode the elevator to the top level and, once there, Tony motioned for Steve to keep close, not wanting him to get lost.

Steve trailed after him like a lost puppy, his bright blue eyes going everywhere and taking in every detail. Frankly, it was adorable.

Tony walked up to a closed door and knocked once, and when a soft voice called him in, he pushed open the door with a bit too much force and strode into the office with a radiant smile on his face.

At the sight of him, Pepper Potts jumped up from behind her desk and swiftly closed the distance between them, her arms flinging around Tony’s neck and hugging him. “We did it, Tony,” She cheered.

“Did you ever doubt?” He asked, eyebrows shooting up.

Pepper bumped a playful fist against his shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Of course I never doubted,” She replied with feigned insult in her voice. She curled an arm around her boss’ waist and walked him up to her desk where the contracts were ready to be signed. “Look at these beauties,” She sighed wistfully.

Tony laughed and picked up the pen, putting his name at the bottom of every page without bothering to read everything over. These contracts were drafted by Pepper herself and he trusted her blindly. She was one of the reasons why Stark Industries had grown and _was_ growing as exponentially as it did, after all.

“We should celebrate,” Pepper said when he put down the pen and turned to her.

He shook his head apologetically. “Another time,” He said, glancing over his shoulder towards Steve who stood rather awkwardly by the door, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and his weight shifting from one foot to the other. The levels of his adorableness peeked, and Tony decided it was time he did something about that. “I’ve got plans, darling,” He told her and kissed her cheek, “We’ll go out for dinner next week, alright?”

Pepper’s light green eyes darted towards Steve and a knowing look crossed her features, “Oh,” She said, her gaze lighting up with delight. She took in every detail of Steve’s image, and Tony couldn’t blame her. Steve was quite the appearance; tall, broad, blond and blue eyes to drown in. “I completely understand,” She said with a faint blush to her cheeks, “He’s very pretty.”

“I’m aware,” Tony chuckled, “Now remember, you’re only allowed to call me if there’s an emergency, an actual one,” He walked away from her, backwards, and waved a finger in warning, “I’ve made plans for the whole week and no one’s gonna ruin them, especially not you, Pep.”

“Alright, alright,” Pepper said, shaking her head a little with indignation, “Have fun!”

“Oh, I will definitely have fun,” Tony grinned as he curled a possessive hand around Steve’s, because it wouldn’t be the first time Pepper flirted with one of his lovers if they were gorgeous enough. He threw Pepper one last look and then guided Steve out of the office – Steve whose eyes flickered back at the now closed door, apprehension lining his features. His fingers curled around Tony’s, squeezing.

“Pepper is nice, isn’t she?” Tony asked, wanting to start some light conversation to put Steve at ease, to erase the sudden anxiety obviously clouding his mind. And he wanted to get rid of his high levels of adorableness, too, but he had an easy solution for that.

“Yeah, she is,” Steve replied. His hand clasped Tony’s so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked, suddenly spinning around and forcing Steve to come to a halt.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve asked, surprised.

“Because you’re crushing my hand.”

“Oh.” Steve quickly pulled away, looking down and away.

“Steve,” Tony said, cupping Steve’s chin and lifting it, wanting those blue eyes focused on him, and nothing but him. Steve’s hand reached up and curled loosely around Tony’s wrist. “What’s on your mind?”

Steve looked about ready to bolt, and if he was going to shut him out, then Tony was damn well going to force his way in. He was Steve’s Master for the next seven days and if something troubled him, then it was his job to figure out what and make it go away. He wanted Steve relaxed, wanted him to enjoy himself, and right now, he was most definitely _not_ enjoying himself.

“Don’t make me spank it out of you,” Tony warned playfully.

At that, Steve’s grip on Tony’s wrist tightened and his eyes darkened with lust. “Does she know?” He asked with a strained voice, panic vibrating just underneath it. “Does she know about you and me?”

“Does she know you’re my pet?” Tony asked, cocking his head sideways a little. He watched Steve swallow heavily. “No, she doesn’t,” He assured him, the pad of his thumb flicking down Steve’s sharp jawline, “But there’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re both adults and we both consented to this. What happens between you and me is none of anyone’s business.”

Steve nodded, and then said, “You build a lot, don’t you?”

Tony, taken off guard, blinked. “What?”

“Your fingertips,” He explained. He pulled Tony’s hand away from his face and held it up, turning it around so the palm faced upwards. He slid his fingers across the tips of Tony’s. “They’re rough, molded, scarred.”

Tony couldn’t help but stare down at Steve’s hand touching his. It felt strangely intimate, the thought causing his chest to constrict suddenly, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

“I’m going to show you my office,” He said, looking back up at Steve who had a startled look on his face, clearly not having expected the sudden change of topic. He forced a knee between Steve’s thighs, and pushed it up against his crotch, drawing an easy moan from his lips. “You’re going to bend over my desk and show me your beautiful ass. Understood?”

Steve nodded, his breath trapped inside his chest, and he groaned when Tony stepped back, removing the pressure to his already hardening cock. Tony chuckled happily and beckoned his pet to follow him down the hallway. His office was just around the corner, secluded, and he couldn’t wait to see Steve drop his pants and present himself. Just the idea had his mouth salivating and his cock stirring in his trousers.

As it turned out, having been given a direct order made Steve’s doubts and insecurities vanish, because as soon as Tony closed the door behind them, he walked up to Tony’s desk, hips swaying in an obviously seductive manner, and pushed his black jeans down to his knees. He bent over the desk, hands clutching the edge, and right in between his ass-cheeks, Tony could see the pad of the butt-plug.

Oh God, what a sight. Tony bit down on his lower lip and impatiently, fervently zipped open his trousers, pulling free his achingly hard cock and pumping it three times. He grabbed a condom from the bottom drawer of his desk, put it on, and applied some lube, thanking the heavens he was always prepared anywhere and everywhere. Hell, it wasn’t the first time he fucked someone in here.

With his heart beating violently against his ribcage, every fiber of his being anticipating, Tony moved to stand behind Steve and placed a hand to his hip, feeling the warm, soft skin beneath his touch. With his other, he tugged at the butt-plug, twisting it inside of Steve and forcing a whimper from his lips.

“Master,” Steve breathed. He leaned his head onto the surface of the desk, his leaking cock trapped between his body and the wood, but Tony had free range of his balls. He fondled them and rolled them in his hand, feeling them draw up when Steve was inching closer to release.

“Don’t you dare,” Tony warned. He grabbed Steve’s hips and pushed them down, forbidding him from moving. “You’re not allowed to cum just yet. We’ve only just started.” He leaned forward and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of Steve’s neck, marking him, and Steve shuddered beneath him. “Do you want me to fuck you, pet?” He asked huskily.

“Yes,” Steve whined, “Yes, Master, please.”

Smiling, Tony removed the butt-plug from his ass and set it aside. With one finger, he circled Steve’s hole, finding it so incredibly loose it was just begging to be filled again – and who was Tony to deny his pet? He grabbed the base of his cock and guided the tip of it to Steve’s ass, pushing in with one smooth movement. This time, it was easy. This time, Steve squirmed underneath him in nothing but pure pleasure, producing the smallest and dirtiest of sounds.

The heat of Steve’s ass was almost enough to make him cum, but Tony forbade himself. For a few long seconds, he didn’t move, knowing that any friction would send him right over the edge. His tongue licked a trail up the back of Steve’s neck and he sucked at the skin, Steve squirming beneath him. He’d wanted to fuck him since this morning, ever since he’d felt the plug through his jeans, and he wasn’t going to cut this moment short by spurting into the condom after just a few minutes. No, he wanted to drag this out and drive Steve insane.

“ _Master_ ,” Steve begged.

That wasn’t helping. Tony moaned against Steve’s shirt and nuzzled the back of his shoulder, inhaling deeply. Steve smelled of shampoo and sweat. He licked Steve’s earlobe into his mouth and sucked. Hard. Steve gasped and reached behind him, grabbing a handful of Tony’s brown hair, tugging at it, willing him to move already.

Tony might be the Master, the Dominant, but it was the submissive that always held the power in the end.

Pulling almost all the way out, Tony shoved back in, Steve tilting his hips, desperate for more, and Tony gladly and eagerly gave it to him. He fucked him hard and fast, pushing Steve’s hips down onto the desk with every thrust he gave. The sounds falling from Steve’s lips grew louder and louder, spurring Tony on.

“This is what you like, huh?” He asked, teeth scraping down the side of Steve’s neck, “This is what you want.”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Steve gasped and rocked his hips, “Master, you’re my Master.” When he came, he cried out and tossed his head back, baring the side of his neck even more.

Tony pressed his lips against it, sucking a bruise into the skin there. Another mark. Steve trembled underneath him, wave after wave crashing into his body. Eventually Tony moved back, pulling out of him, and with unsteady hands, he removed the condom, tying it up and tossing it into the bin at his feet. He was still rock hard, his cock twitching at the touch of his hand. A part of him wished Steve hadn’t come yet. He’d have to do something about that next time.

“On your knees,” He ordered.

Steve obeyed instantly, pushing himself up and away from the desk, and slid down. At this point, Tony doubted Steve could stand anyway.

“You better swallow,” He warned right before gripping Steve’s jaw and plunged into his open, willing mouth. The warmth of Steve’s tongue swirling around his length burned him. Tony closed his eyes and parted his lips in a silent cry. “That’s it,” He said, pushing his cock deeper into Steve’s mouth until he felt the head bump against the back of his throat. “Work around it,” He added when Steve choked a little.

Steve’s throat relaxed around him, swallowing him down until his nose brushed the short hair above Tony’s girth. Tony groaned and closed his eyes, wanting to focus on nothing more but Steve’s warm and wet mouth, on his tongue tracing a thick, throbbing vein at the underside of his length, on the feeling of Steve’s hands slipping down his ass, squeezing.

He came without warning, jetting down his throat, and being the good pet that he was, Steve eagerly swallowed everything he had to give. Tony desperately gasped for air, his entire body shaking as the orgasm controlled him, and Steve sucking the tip of his cock, milking it, wasn’t helping either.

“Holy fuck,” He cried out.

Eventually, Tony stepped back, his now flaccid cock slipping from Steve’s lips with a dirty wet sound.

Saliva mixed with cum dripped down Steve’s chin, a marvelous sight, but Tony wiped it away with the back of his hand. Steve looked dazed, lips still parted, red and swollen, his chest heaving, and his eyes seeking something, but not finding it. If he could, he’d keep Steve like that at all the time.

Slowly, he sank down to his knees and placed both his hands to the sides of Steve’s face. Those bright blue eyes finally focused on him. “Hi, there,” He smiled softly, fingers brushing the side of Steve’s face, “You okay?”

A complacent smile filled Steve’s face as well and he let his head fall sideways and into Tony’s hand, into his touch. “I’m okay,” He said, sounding hoarse, “That was just … really intense.”

“I know, pet,” He helped Steve up to his feet and pushed the butt-plug back in place, pulling up his tight, black jeans. Then he took care of his own trousers, zipping them shut and checking for cum-stains – thank God there weren’t any. They both looked disheveled, sure, Steve more so than Tony, but they looked decent enough to make their way through the building – or so Tony hoped. It wasn’t that he’d mind a few looks here and there, but it’d become obvious Steve wouldn’t like it as much. “Let’s get you back to the penthouse,” He said, running his hands up and down Steve’s arms, the gesture comforting.

Steve nodded, still smiling, and said Tony’s favorite word of his vocabulary: “Okay.”

-x-x-x-

“God dammit,” Tony cursed suddenly, drawing Steve’s attention to him who’d been staring out of the window of the SUV again, “My phone keeps buzzing.” With one hand tightly around the steering wheel, he grabbed deep into the pocket of his vest and fished out his cell phone.

Steve watched him closely. Every muscle in his body ached and his cock was semi-hard again inside his jeans what with the plug up his ass again, stimulating him, vibrating along with the car.

Much to his surprise, Tony held out the phone for him to take, which he did, hesitantly, unsure of what on earth he was supposed to do with it. The model was one he’d never seen before, but one quick look at the back of the phone told him it had been custom made by Stark Industries, the small logo blinking at the top left corner. The device buzzed in his hand.

“Who keeps texting me?” Tony asked. He kept his eyes firmly ahead and focused on the hundreds of cars swarming the road and swerving sideways, giving Steve a series of minor heart-attacks each time he thought for sure they were going to collide. “It better not be Pepper again.”

At his touch, the screen lit up, showing Steve that Tony had received three messages in the last five minutes. “Uhm, someone named Loki.”

“What’s he saying?”

It felt weird going through texts that weren’t meant for him, but apparently Tony was curious and since he wasn’t in a position to read them himself, it was up to Steve to help him out. He tapped the screen a few times and clicked open the inbox. “He wants you to go over tomorrow,” He explained, scrolling through the message, “Says he has to tell you something. It’s urgent.”

“Ha,” Tony laughed, “To Loki, something is either insignificant or end-of-the-world-news.”

The phone buzzed again, startling Steve who nearly dropped the phone, and the last thing he wanted was to break the little, black device. It felt expensive in his hand, something he probably couldn’t afford with two months’ worth of pay, though in all fairness, he couldn’t properly afford an iPhone with his wages, not when the rent for the loft was so high. It would be wasted money. “He says he’s cooking dinner and that if you’re not there by seven, he’ll make you suffer,” He informed Tony.

Tony threw him a quick glance, silence surrounding them. “Would you mind going with me?” He asked, hesitance in his voice. “I actually do think Loki can make me suffer.”

The question was one he should have expected and yet it still caught him off guard. It was one thing to tag along to Tony’s work and fuck in his office, but to join him to a friend’s house? He didn’t want to cross any lines … Although it was Tony asking him along, which meant he was okay with it. Steve felt peculiarly confused.

“Is he uhm–” He started awkwardly, staring down at the phone that no longer buzzed. “Is he like you?” He wasn’t sure what it would mean if Loki _was_ like Tony.

“Like me?” Tony asked, frowning, but realization quickly dawned on him. “Oh, like me, yes. He’s a Dom, but don’t worry, he won’t be interested in sharing you.” A sudden thoughtful look crossed his features. “Well, he might be interested since you’re very much his type, but I doubt that’s your thing.” His gaze flickered towards Steve. “Is it?”

Steve bit down on his tongue. He honestly didn’t know. Sure, he was willing to sign a contract that made him Tony’s submissive for seven days after having met him once, but to be shared? The idea of having a Master take care of him for a week felt adventurous and rousing and beyond exciting, it even had his cock twitch between his legs, but to be shared with another Master? Honestly, the idea left him flustered and kind of turned on, but Steve wasn’t sure he was ready to go that distance. Not yet anyway.

“It’s okay,” Tony assured him when Steve stayed quiet. He patted his knee briefly. “Loki’s a great guy. If you’re off limits, you’re off limits. He’ll respect that. He’s a good Master.”

Steve nodded, deciding to trust Tony, which was surprisingly easy. “Then I’ll go with you,” He said, determined, and when he glanced back up at him, he found a small, pleased smile playing around his lips. It filled Steve with a warm, pleased feeling, because when his Master was happy, so was he.


	3. Tuesday

Steve hadn’t thought it possible for such mansions to be built in the heart of New York City. An eight feet metal fence surrounded the house, and as Tony drove the car closer towards it, the gate opened automatically, granting them access. The front yard was immaculately kept, the green grass short and the bushes lining the lawn well-trimmed. The stones of the driveway paving the way to the front of the house were clean of weed.

Tony parked the car to the side of the driveway, on a spot reserved for cars, and got out, Steve following his example. They made it up the steps that lead to the front door, and Steve couldn’t help but glance sideways at Tony. There was no denying that he felt a bit nervous. He was going to meet a friend of Tony’s who happened to be another Dominant. The things that could happen behind the walls of this manor were endless, but Steve tried not to think much about it. This was just dinner, nothing more.

The front door opened a few seconds after Tony had knocked his knuckles against it, revealing a long, lean man with sharp facial features and shoulder-length jet black hair. He wore casual jeans and a dark grey shirt, but that wasn’t what caught Steve’s attention. No, his bright emerald green eyes did. They instantly locked with Tony’s dark brown ones, and a razor sharp grin broke free on his face. There was no denying it; Loki was a handsome man and he knew it. And he was most definitely a Dominant. It radiated off of him, causing something to shift inside Steve. What, he didn’t know.

“You made it,” Loki said silkily, an arm wrapping around Tony’s shoulders and pulling him inside, “And you’re only half an hour late.”

“Traffic,” Tony replied with a shrug.

Steve, unsure of what the hell he was supposed to do, ran a hand through his short, blond hair, his gaze falling to the floor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the presence of two Dominants and it messed with him, confused him, especially when those green eyes shifted towards him and stayed on him. Loki’s gaze felt like a physical presence on his skin, like a slow burn. His skin itched.

“And you must be Tony’s guest,” Loki said as he blatantly let his gaze rake over Steve’s body. His arm fell away from Tony’s shoulders, and he folded his hands before his stomach, his thumbs pressing together, another dominance-asserting gesture. The edges of his lips curved upwards into an appreciative smile. “Well, aren’t you a pretty sight for sore eyes … Please, come in.”

“This is Steve,” Tony introduced them as Steve stepped into the house. Tony’s hand folded around Steve’s and tugged at it, forcing him to step closer to his body for which Steve was secretly grateful. It was meant to signal to Loki that he was off limits, and it worked, because Loki straightened his back and focused entirely on Steve’s face again. “Steve, this is Loki, my asshole of a friend.”

“Ha-ha,” Loki drawled sarcastically. He extended a hand for Steve to shake, which he did since it was only polite. It didn’t matter that he would have rather not had another man touch him, that he just wanted his Master’s touch. And it was just a handshake, nothing to freak out about. “Don’t listen to him. I’m actually very nice.”

Tony snorted.

Somehow, Steve relaxed.

“Are you two not getting along again?” A new, deep voice suddenly asked.

Steve’s head snapped sideways, finding another man walking into the foyer. He was huge, about three inches taller than he was, with soft, golden hair that was tied into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. His dark blue eyes lit up as they connected with Loki’s and his hand slipped down Loki’s lower back.

Steve had to remind himself that staring was impolite, but it was difficult to tear his gaze away, especially when the man flexed his muscles underneath a tight, blue shirt.

“This is Thor,” Tony explained, waving a hand towards said man, “I know he looks big, but he’s actually an adorable puppy. He doesn’t bite.”

“So you say,” Loki grinned cheekily.

Thor rolled his eyes, his hand falling away from Loki. “What are we all standing in the foyer for?” He asked, obviously trying to shift the conversation to a different topic, which Steve was also grateful for. It made him like Thor, the feeling instant and genuine.

“That’s a good question,” Loki said. He turned around, his hand resting against Thor’s massive upper arm, and planted a quick, sweet kiss to his cheek. “We’ll head into the living room and you can whip us up some cocktails.” He looked over his shoulder at Steve. “Thor makes the best cocktails.”

Turned out he really did.

Steve had never tasted such a delicious Long Island Ice Tea before, though he would be able to enjoy it even more if his surroundings didn’t distract him so much. The living room was about as big as the loft rented, which was really saying much, because Steve considered the loft quite spacious, and large paintings adorned the white walls. It took him a moment to figure out that the figures in them were actually Thor and Loki. One depicted them on a beach with stars in a dark, ink-blue sky, and another showed them in bed, sheets covering their bodies and faces to keep it decent.

On any other occasion, Steve would find the paintings arrogant, but they were actually really beautiful and subtle, and he understood that they were meant as a testament of love. They radiated commitment between Dominant and submissive, between Master and slave, a kind of commitment Steve hadn’t thought possible, but here were two people clearly loving each other and unafraid to show it.

Thor came to stand beside him, looking up at the painting that showed rippled bed sheets touched by the first morning light. “Do you like it?” He asked curiously.

“I do,” Steve answered, not even having to think about it, or lie, “Did you paint them?”

“God no,” Thor chuckled warmly, “Loki had them made by a professional artist.” There was a short silence, then, “So are you just a guest or a seven-days-guest?”

Steve nearly choked on his drink and threw Thor a startled look.

“Hey, there’s no judgment here,” Thor said, shrugging, his gaze returning to the painting, “But you’re right, it’s none of my business. That was rude of me.”

He supposed there really was no judgment, not with the way Thor was so lightly touching the subject. But it really was none of his concerns.

Steve stared at him for a moment longer, and he wondered how a big, strong, and muscled man like Thor had discovered his submissive nature. Had he experimented with it? Had he just always known? Did Loki bring it out of him? He certainly seemed comfortable enough with it to blatantly show it, which Steve admired.

“Seven days,” He said, not really knowing why, but with the way Thor smiled faintly, he got the feeling Thor had already known. “Is that how you met Loki?”

“No,” Thor said, shaking his head, “But I did meet him at one of the D&s Clubs.”

A frown passed Steve’s features.

“You know, Mrs. Romanov takes care of the seven-day-contracts, fitting Doms and subs together for a week of glorious enjoyment,” Thor explained, as if he were talking about the most ordinary subject in the whole wide world – it made Steve blush and cast his eyes down, “And Mr. Barton is in charge of the clubs. You’ve never been?”

“No, not to those specifically,” He admitted. Why, again he didn’t know. It was just easy to talk to Thor, probably because he really _didn’t_ judge. And maybe because he was a sub, too. Steve hadn’t really mingled in that milieu lately. And sure, he’d gone to a few clubs a long time ago and he’d been in a relationship with a Dominant before, but that was it.

“So how did you and Loki meet Tony?” He asked, deciding that he’d like a change of topic.

“Business,” Thor explained, “Which reminds me; for the next half hour, you shouldn’t go anywhere near those two.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, towards Loki and Tony who were seated on a white, leather couch, talking animatedly. “They’re talking business right now. Boring stuff.” He snatched Steve’s empty glass from his hands. “Let me fix you up with another cocktail.”

They were eating an hour later, Loki apparently being a wonderful chef, because Steve had never tasted a steak so good. On the downside, Tony and Loki were still mostly talking about business. Thor occasionally shot him a what-can-we-do-about-it-look, which made him smile every time. Truth be told, he was having fun. The food was great, the company was lovely and not as threatening as he first thought, and it was actually really nice to see Tony talk so passionately about that was obviously close to his heart.

“So there’s a reason why I asked you over, Tony,” Loki started when they had finally stopped discussing the latest developments in the R&D department of Stark Industries.

It had taken Steve a while, but eventually he’d figured out that Loki’s company, Jotunheim Enterprises, which manufactured technology ranging from phones to microwaves, had been a massive financier to Tony’s company back when it had first started out. And now that Stark Industries was growing exponentially, Jotunheim Enterprises was plucking the fruits of that collaboration.

“I have a question for you,” Loki continued as he rose to his feet, his glass of wine still in hand. His green eyes were fixed on Tony. “What would you say if I asked you to be my best man at my wedding?”

Steve’s gaze shot to Thor who grinned happily and radiantly.

Tony’s eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth gaping even though he’d been in the middle of chewing some food. “Are you kidding me?” He jumped up to his feet. “Did you finally pop the fucking question?”

“ _I_ popped the fucking question,” Thor corrected.

“You guys,” Tony cheered, “Congratulations!” He darted around the table and hugged Loki who protested loudly and rather violently, before he slapped Thor amiably on the back. “It’s about time. Come on, show me.”

Steve was left a little flabbergasted. He wanted to congratulate the couple, wanted to wish them a happy marriage, but at the same time he felt clueless about what exactly was going on, especially when Thor stood and tugged his trousers down a little, not to show Tony an engagement ring, but to reveal a thin, golden chain around his hips. Steve couldn’t help but stare, especially when Tony leaned down and traced the chain with the tip of his finger.

“Custom made?” Tony asked.

“Only the best for him,” Loki replied. He reached out and threaded his fingers through Thor’s hair, folding the few strands that had gotten loose behind his ear. It was a loving, sweet gesture, but Steve only had attention for the way Tony’s fingers slipped around Thor’s hips.

Finally Tony stepped back, a smile still plastered to his face. Steve wasn’t sure what to think of it, but thank God he was mostly ignored.

The next thirty minutes were spent talking about when and where and who would be on the guest-list and who would get a big fuck you – apparently a lot of people, with Loki’s parents at the top. Thor’s parents were going to be invited, along with his younger brother Balder.

Steve, in the meantime, tried to focus on his dessert; lovely warm apple pie with home-made vanilla ice cream.

He felt like an intruder, like he’d witnessed a moment he wasn’t supposed to witness. He didn’t know these people and he’d invaded the moment where they told a close friend they were going to get married. Steve felt guilty and wished he hadn’t come along.

That and his thoughts continuously flicked back to the golden chain around Thor’s hips _and_ to the way Tony had slipped a finger over it. It probably meant nothing. And even if it were to mean something, it was none of his business. He was just a guest, a seven-day-guest, and at the end of Sunday, he would pack his bag and leave and never look back. That was how it worked. Yet his head felt thick with chaos, question after question shooting through his mind.

They moved into the living room once their plates were empty. Loki put on some soft, classical music and started talking about a book Steve had never heard about, but it was pointless. Not five minutes later, he and Tony were talking about work again.

Thor rolled his eyes when he caught Steve’s gaze, then walked up to him and guided him out of the living room.

“I want to show you something,” He said as they made their way down the wide and white hall.

More art adorned the walls and at the far end, a large mirror reflected their bodies. He’d always considered himself to be rather big and muscled, but next to Thor, he felt peculiarly small.

“I’ve heard them talk enough about money and technology and contracts,” Thor added, “And I figured you have, too.”

“Kind of,” Steve admitted.

“I hope you like books.”

Thor led him into another spacious room, the walls covered with hundreds and hundreds of books, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. No, the piano in the center of the room did, a Steingraeber und Söhne model, one of the best models ever made, and one of the most expensive, too. Approaching the instrument, Steve shifted a hand across the lid, reveling at the feel beneath his fingertips.

“Do you play?” Thor asked.

Steve nodded absently, his attention completely drawn to the piano. He sat down on the piano bench and lifted the fall board. He’d always wanted to play this model, had always wanted to know how it sounded, and now he had the chance. He couldn’t let it slip away from him.

“Can I try?” He asked hopefully. Just the idea of playing a piano as perfect as this one had his heart beating just a tad faster.

“Sure,” Thor said.

As soon as he played the first few notes of Bach’s Aria, Steve started to smile. His entire body felt light all of a sudden, and his surroundings faded. There was just him and the instrument, him and the music that filled the air. He didn’t even notice when Thor came to sit beside him, watching him play with an almost dumbfounded look on his face.

“That was beautiful,” He said wistfully once Steve finished.

“Thank you,” Steve said, smiling, the compliment making his blush. But for once he didn’t care. For the rest of the evening, he wouldn’t be able to stop smiling. Truly, he hadn’t realized how much he missed playing the piano even when he’d only been with Tony for a few days. He missed listening to music and letting it inspire him to write his own. He missed being swept away by nothing but a tune, letting it unlock memories and emotions.

His fingers itched to play more.

“And here I thought the books would blow you away,” Thor chuckled.

Steve looked at him, amusement in his eyes, only for the image of the golden chain around his hips to crash back into his mind.

He fell silent and cast his eyes down.

“You’re not very subtle, you know,” Thor said, “What’s on your mind?”

It wasn’t a question he should ask. It wasn’t even a question he should _have_. Steve glanced back up at Thor, the man waiting, and he wondered how many lines he could cross in one evening. Thor and Loki had welcomed him into their home with open arms, had shared something as important as a wedding-announcement with him even though he was a complete stranger, but there he was, wanting to stick his nose into business that wasn’t his.

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?” Thor asked, cocking his head sideways a little.

“Not really, no,” Steve sighed. He focused on the keyboard, on the way the white and black keys felt beneath the tips of his fingers. He pressed them down occasionally, forming accords that reflected his mood. It was an instinctual act. “I had a Mistress before,” He admitted, because where was the harm? He didn’t know Thor and Thor didn’t know him, and at the end of the evening, he would leave and never see him again. “But it didn’t work out. That was two years ago, and I’ve gone to a few clubs since, but … I don’t know. I never found anyone like her again.”

“But you like having a Master or Mistress,” Thor offered carefully.

Steve nodded. “I’m really not sure how my flat mate talked me into this,” He chuckled softly, “Into this whole seven-day thing. But Tony is a good guy. He’s a good Master.” His gaze flickered up to meet Thor’s. “Have you and Tony …?”

“So that’s what’s on your mind.” Thor pursed his lips for a moment, as if contemplating on whether or not to answer the question, which made Steve feel even ruder, because had he really just asked whether he and Tony ever shared a bed? “Loki is my Master,” He answered after a short silence, his dark blue eyes locked with Steve’s, “And yes, he once shared me with Tony for a night and it was brilliant, but now I’m just Loki’s.” At that, Thor’s features softened, his eyes lighting up. “And Loki is mine.”

“Does he wear a golden chain?” The question burst from his lips before he could swallow away the words.

But Thor didn’t seem offended. He laughed amicably. “He doesn’t,” He said, “I wear it because I want to wear it; because when we go out, everyone will know I am taken for. They will know that I belong to my Master and only my Master.”

“I see,” Steve said, turning his gaze back down. It was a lot to think about, a dynamic he hadn’t thought possible ever since he and Peggy broke up. But it _was_ possible. Thor and Loki were proof of it. Those paintings were proof of it, and Loki wondered if Tony had ever experienced something alike.

There was a short silence.

“Would you play something else?” Thor asked.

“Of course,” Steve said, because music would help his mind quiet down, would help him ignore all sorts of questions that didn’t matter.

The Moonlight Sonata from Beethoven was one of his personal favorites. His fingers glided across the keyboard with ease, finding each note perfectly and letting the music swell when it grew darker and letting it become light when the darkness faded. But as he played, his thoughts flickered back to Tony and he wondered if he had ever belonged to someone like Loki belonged to Thor, like Peggy had belonged to him, if only for a little while.

He thought about Thor and Loki, of the paintings in the living room, and of the golden chain around Thor’s hips. And he thought of himself, wondering if there would ever be someone he could give himself to again, if there would ever be someone he loved enough to let that person put a golden chain around his hips.

-x-x-x-

Steve was unusually quiet. He was looking out of the tinted car-window again, but there was something serene about him, and the way his body was seemingly curled inwardly made Tony want to peek into Steve’s thoughts and possibly chase them away. He hadn’t really given him much attention all night, but he didn’t think that was the reason why Steve had such a thoughtful, almost analytical expression on his face, like he was overwhelmed by a dozen different thoughts he was desperately trying to dissect.

“I’m sorry for leaving you all alone with Thor for most of the night,” He said, wanting to start a conversation and break the silence that unnerved him – why it unnerved him, he didn’t know. Still, he kept his tone light, and when Steve looked at him, he offered him a placate smile, pleased he had drawn him out of his thoughts. “I hope you weren’t too bored.”

“No, I had fun,” Steve said, “I’m just tired.”

“I heard you play,” He kept switching his gaze between Steve and the road. It was late, past midnight, but traffic was still hell. It was always hell in New York City, a city that never slept – literally. “You have a gift.”

“Thanks,” He said quietly, “I missed it, playing the piano.”

This was good; easy conversation to lure Steve out of his shell again. He might never know what had been going through Steve’s mind, but that was okay. It would be a mistake to get too close anyway. And he liked this Steve; quiet, calm, face red and eyes down, because he liked the idea of turning it all around, of coaxing moans and gasps from his pretty, pink lips, of having his body squirm underneath his, of marking his skin until it said _mine_. For seven days.

Clearing his throat, needing to get a grip on himself, because they were in the car and there was very little he could do, Tony gripped the steering wheel with both hands. He forced his voice to sound steady. “You play a lot?” He asked.

“I’m a pianist,” Steve answered, and for some reason Tony couldn’t fathom, he looked embarrassed. “I try to make a living of it, but it’s … hard. My flat mate mostly pays the bills. He’s an artist, paints things.”

“But it’s your dream?”

“Yeah,” He sighed, “But maybe I should reconsider my career path. I’ve always loved music, and when I’m not playing the piano, I’m mostly just looking forward to the next time I can play something. I’m always thinking of new melodies, and up to this point, music has shaped my life. It’s why I’m in New York and, in a way, it has led mehere.” He pressed his lips together suddenly, eyes down. “I’ll shut up now.”

“What?” Tony’s gaze snapped sideways. “Why?”

Even in the darkness of the car, only broken by the passing street lights and headlights, Tony could spot a sort of sadness on Steve’sface, disgrace. Steve looked pained, and Tony wanted to know the reason for that pain and crush it. Steve was the kind of man that needed freedom, that needed to be let go so he could follow his dream, but he looked tied down, anchored to the earth. It didn’t fit him. He wanted Steve to look like he did while playing the piano again.

“Why would you be interested in any of this?” Steve asked carefully after a short silence. His eyes darted up at Tony from underneath dark lashes. “You’re a business man and you just got a contract with the government. You’re a big name, or you’re going to be, and you should be celebrating, and I’m just …”

Tony reached out a hand and curled it around the back of Steve’s neck, feeling the man tense at his touch, withdrawing, but Tony refused to let that happen. He slipped his hand up the back of Steve’s head and curled his fingers into his soft, blond hair.

“When I heard you play, I came to see what was going on,” He told him, “And I saw you sitting behind the piano and you looked lost in your own world. No, not lost. You were in your own world and you belonged there.” God, he wished he could look Steve in the eye as he told him this, but hell-traffic prevented him. “If you want to make it as a pianist here in the most vibrant city of America, then you better start believing in yourself.”

Steve stared at him, and much to Tony’s surprise, he let out a soft, warm laugh. “Bucky pretty much tells me the same every day.”

“He’s your flat mate?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like he’s a smart guy,” Tony said.

He let his hand slip back down the side of Steve’s neck, fully aware that he should keep both hands on the steering wheel, but the feeling of Steve’s warm skin beneath the tips of his fingers left him craving more. And the look in Steve’s eyes, open and innocent, caused something to stir inside Tony. He wanted to wreck Steve, wanted to destroy that innocence and leave him for what he was; a submissive desperate for his Master’s touch.

“I want to take you to a club tomorrow,” He said.

Steve’s eyes widened and tension slipped back underneath his skin, Tony could feel it as if it were electricity stinging the both of them.

He dropped his hand and placed it on Steve’s knee and squeezed, wanting Steve to focus on that.

“It would be on your terms,” He said.

He really wanted Steve to go with him, wanted to see him walk around naked amongst other submissives and Dominants, knowing that he was his and his alone. He wanted to see him excited and aroused beyond his own will, and he wanted him completely at his mercy. He wanted Steve to let go of his fears and insecurities, he wanted him to let go of normality, and simply trust him.

“I’ll take care of you. Those fantasies I know you’ve been having, they can become reality.”

Slowly, he slipped his hand further up Steve’s leg, fully aware of how the man shuddered beneath his touch. He wasn’t going to force him into anything – hell, he _couldn’t_ force him into anything – but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try and persuade him.

“I don’t know,” Steve muttered after a short silence. His eyes were fixed on Tony’s hand moving up his leg, and there was no denying the way his body curved into it, obviously wanting more. “I’ve never really … been.”

“I’m aware,” Tony said, hating that he couldn’t focus all of his attention on his pet. Maybe he should have waited until they were back at the penthouse for this conversation, but then where would the fun be? The accusatory look Steve sent him only made him grin dirtily. "So I heard you and Thor talk, sue me. I want to show you a good time, Steve, that’s why we’re both here, aren’t we?”

Steve bit down on his lower lip, something that should be made illegal. Tony groaned and shifted in his seat, hoping to relief some of the pressure already building in his crotch. Just the idea of Steve inside a club, _his_ , was enough to interest his cock. A small voice in the back of his head told him to order Steve to go down on him, but Tony pushed it away. This wasn’t about him. This was only about Steve.

“My terms,” Steve said, his voice already thick with wanton. His eyes fluttered shut when Tony dipped his hand down his thigh, close to his covered dick, which was already obviously hard in his jeans. “No one touches me but you.”

“Obviously,” Tony agreed. Just the thought of anyone laying their hands on what was his … He dipped his hand even deeper and brushed the back of it against Steve’s crotch, drawing a groan from his lips. “Is that a yes?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes,” He breathed.

The sight of Steve squirming with nothing more than a touch, his hands clasping the edge of his seat being the good pet that he was, made Tony feel good about himself. It was nice to know that he had such a strong effect on him. “You want me to touch you now, pet?” He asked as he cupped Steve’s girth and squeezed.

“God, yes,” Steve nodded frantically.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Master.”

Tony chuckled and started fumbling with the button of Steve’s jeans. It took him a few seconds, but he got them open and forced his hand in, loving the desperate sounds that fell from Steve’s lips. His cock was hard and hot, and Tony, being the eager slut that he actually was, wrapped his hand around it and pulled it free, wishing he could take it into his mouth and taste him. He hadn’t tasted Steve down there yet. Maybe tomorrow.

“Master, please.” Steve was back to begging. He was good at that, and perhaps he knew just what kind of affect it had on Tony. He bucked his hips upward, fucking Tony’s fist, pre-cum already leaking from the slit of his cock.

Tony wished he could lavish Steve with attention and he wished he could watch his body react to his touch, but he had to keep an eye on the road. He pumped Steve’s cock and listened to the small, whining sounds Steve produced in order to deduce whether or not he was driving him insane. And so far, he was definitely driving him insane.

“Master, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” Tony interjected.

He could feel Steve was close by the way his was violently fucking his hand now, by the way his cock was twitching and throbbing, by the way little curses slipped from his tongue, unintelligible. He squeezed Steve’s cock and rubbed his thumb over the sensitive head until Steve came, gasping for air, his knuckles white with how desperately he was clinging to the edge of his seat.

“That’s it, pet.”

“Oh God,” Steve sighed. He let his head fall back, his body deflating.

Tony pulled his hand back and considered licking his fingers clean, only to realize that this wasn’t how he wanted to taste Steve for the first time. He lifted his cum-sticky hand and snapped his fingers, demanding Steve’s attention, enjoying the way Steve’s eyes darkened as he realized what was wanted from him.

“Lick them clean,” Tony said with a heavy, aroused voice.

Steve sucked Tony’s thumb into his warm, wet mouth, and Tony cursed, nearly forgetting that he was driving a car on a busy road in New York City.

“Fuck, why are you so good at this?” He asked.

Steve moaned around his fingers, one by one, his tongue swirling around the digits and sucking the tips. And oh, Tony was going to punish him for this. He didn’t know how yet, but he was going to do wicked things to the man sitting beside him until he was begging for release, for the right to cum, and it was going to be glorious.


	4. Wednesday, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just me using the opportunity to write shameless Stony porn ... I swear there is plot, too!

The D&s Club was tucked away at the end of a blind alley, which was a conscious decision, Tony told him. One bright street light illuminated the entrance, an ordinary red door with a bouncer stationed at the side. Tony greeted the man by name, showed him his card, and guided Steve inside. The foyer was a bright room with white walls and different paintings depicting various BDSM-scenarios.

Steve took them in, one by one, until he felt Tony’s hand press against his lower back, urging him to keep on walking.

“These paintings,” He said, “Are they done by the same artist as Thor and Loki’s?”

“You have a keen eye for art,” Tony said.

That wasn’t true. It was just an advantage of having a best friend who painted and sculpted and created whatever flitted through his mind. Bucky dragged him to galleries at least once a month, which was all enough for Steve to have some basic knowledge of art and be able to distinguish different brush-strokes. Nothing more.

“Come on,” Tony said, walking him up to a front desk at the side of the foyer.

A brunette with full red lips, magnificent breasts and oversized glasses greeted them happily. “Welcome to D&s,” She smiled, her gaze shifting between Tony and him, “Collar?”

“Yes, a white one, please,” Tony replied.

Steve swallowed heavily as the woman handed over a white, leather collar. That was for him, there was no doubt about it, and sure, he’d worn kinky stuff before, had obeyed Peggy whenever she ordered him to put on leather strings or gags, but all of that had happened between the safety of bedroom walls. Now they were in a club for anyone and everyone to see, and Steve was starting to think that this was a bad idea.

Tony turned to him and held up the item. “Come here,” He said, and Steve had little choice but to obey. He stepped closer to his Master and let him put the collar around his neck, the leather soft against his skin. “This tells everyone you’re off limits,” Tony explained as he dragged a finger over the collar, “No one touches you but me.”

Steve nodded.

“Now strip.”

 _What?_ Steve’s eyes widened and he looked around, focusing on another couple who had just come in and moved towards the woman behind the desk, too. A door to his left opened then and another couple walked in, leaving the club, or planning to at least. And they would all see him. And then Tony would take him into the actual club where the action happened and _everyone_ would see him, naked safe for a leather strap around his neck.

His heart beat violently inside his chest and breathing became difficult.

“Steve,” Tony said. He placed a hand to the side of his face and turned it so he had no choice but to look at him. “We’re here on your terms, and no boundaries are going to be crossed. But I’m your Master and I want you to strip. Now.”

The couple who had arrived behind them was already moving to the door to his left, the submissive naked except for a black collar. Steve cleared his throat, stared into Tony’s eyes for a second, and nodded. He had agreed to this, had wanted this, _still_ wanted this, and he wasn’t going to chicken out already. It was scary being here, surreal even to put such trust in Tony, but there was no denying that his fear faded into nothingness compared to his arousal.

And he was definitely aroused. The feeling of the leather collar brushing against his skin, the predatory look in Tony’s eyes, knowing everyone would see him yet not be able to touch him … He was shocked he was already semi-hard.

With shaking hands, he undressed.

“Lovely,” Tony smiled.

That smile was enough to ease his nerves, but not the slight tremor in his limbs. Once naked, his clothes stored away by the woman behind the desk who was apparently called Darcy, Tony slipped a hand around his and pulled at it, tugging him along to the door. As soon as it opened, Steve felt warm air swirl around his body, heating him up.

The hallway stretching out before them was long and wide, the walls painted dark red. A few people turned to look at them, the new arrivals, and some muttered appreciatively at the sight of Steve, and Steve couldn’t help but hang on tightly to Tony’s hand, stepping closer towards him, seeking safety and reassurance. Never before had he been so conscious of himself, of every small detail of his body, every imperfection. But the men around him didn’t seem to notice. Their eyes devoured him.

“Relax, pet,” Tony said. He ran a hand through Steve’s hair and pulled him down, their lips crashing together, catching Steve off guard. Tony’s tongue swirled along the seams of his lips, but he didn’t press on. “Everyone here knows you’re mine.”

Steve could only nod. Either he’d lost his voice entirely, or it would sound unsteady should he use it anyway.

They walked down the hallway that gave entrance to various other rooms. The doorways didn’t have any doors, giving passers open views as to what was happening inside of the rooms. Steve thought he’d gone to a BDSM club before on a few occasions, thought he knew what he had agreed to in the car last night, but this club was beyond anything he’d ever imagined, beyond anything he thought existed.

Dominants were casually talking to each other, their submissive kneeling at their feet, their eyes down or drinking in the scene around them. Some subs were treated as actual slaves, a leash attached to their collars and having been ordered to crawl behind their Masters and let others touch them whenever and however they pleased. Inside the rooms, Steve spotted submissives being spanked raw and fucked deep, saw Masters forcing pleasure from their submissives, exploiting them in any way they could.

It was all wrong and so very rousing.

The sound of a sub crying out caught his attention. Steve’s head snapped sideways and he glanced into a room to find a man tied down to a table, lying on his back. Two other men held his legs open while a third one fingered his ass, no, _fisted_ his ass. He was all the way in there, the slave stretched open around his wrist, squirming and struggling.

“It’s all consensual, pet,” Tony said, his voice so close to his ear that it startled him.

Steve couldn’t focus his attention on his Master, though, not while the sub being fisted looked like he was being tortured. But there stood another man at the head of the table, dressed immaculately, dominance practically dripping from him, and he ran his fingers through the sub’s long, dark hair. He was whispering to him and kissing the side of his face.

“How do you know?” Steve had to ask.

“The collar,” Tony replied, pointing out the black leather around the sub’s neck, “White like yours indicates that you’re off limits, that you’re not to be touched. Red is for those who may be touched, but not fucked. And black means free range. But the Master is always around to make sure his slave is alright.”

Which explained the man whispering to the sub, soothing him, encouraging him. Steve stared at the scene unfolding before him. The slave cried out again, begging for it all to stop, and Steve was about to jump in and help when the man came, hard, spurting cum onto his own stomach and chest.

And then it all ended. The two men holding his legs open let go and stepped away, and the man fisting him pulled out.

“You’re very noble,” Tony chuckled. Only then did Steve realized he’d actually stepped forward, but that Tony had held him back, his hand curled tightly around his wrist now. “It’s not because you beg for something to stop, that you want it to stop.”

“But he looked …” Steve turned to Tony, frowning. All this was so overwhelming that he didn’t even care anymore that he was naked, that others were watching him, enjoying the sight of his body. “Even if he did want it to stop, he couldn’t do anything.”

“Steve,” Tony sighed. He rubbed his knuckles against Steve’s jaw. “There are rules, and you know these rules. You love these rules. We’re not animals. We have urges, sure, but we can control them. If that slave had said his safe word, everything would have stopped.”

Steve bit down on his tongue, hoping to force away the questions crashing into his mind, but he was freaking out and he wanted to leave. He wanted Tony to take him back to the penthouse and do bad things to him there, not here, not when there were so many others who might not be as trustworthy as Tony.

“Steve,” Tony said curtly.

“I want to leave,” He confessed.

“Look over there,” Tony said suddenly. He pointed at a waiter carrying around glasses with champagne. He was big, about Steve’s height, and had muscled arms. “And there,” Tony pointed to another waiter, looking equally big and strong. He reminded Steve of Thor.

Tony guided him further down the hallway. “And there,” He showed him a man standing by the doorway that lead into a room which held a large, metal fence. Cuffs were attached to them so slaves could be locked down and flogged. “They’re not just here to serve us and clean up after us. They keep their eyes and ears open, and as soon as they hear a safe word that isn’t respected, they intervene.”

Steve still wasn’t convinced.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tony said, turning to Steve, pressing his body against his, which was a surprisingly effective way to demand and hold his attention, “How are they to know all the safe words? But it’s quiet easy, you know. When someone cries out ‘shoes’ or ‘teddy bear’, they know a sub has reached his limit.”

It made sense.

Steve nodded and leaned into Tony’s touch when his fingers slipped down the side of his face. He was still scared, still didn’t know if this had been a good decision or not, but he realized he trusted Tony, and fuck, he wanted to know what Tony planned on doing to him here. And he wanted to know if he could handle it.

“Okay,” He said, telling Tony he wanted to keep going.

“Great,” Tony grinned happily, “I know just where to take you. Follow me.”

Steve trailed after him, very conscious again of the fact that men and women were staring at him, eating him up with their hungry eyes, but no one touched him like Tony had promised him. Only Tony was allowed to touch him, and really, Steve was getting quite desperate to feel his Master’s hands on his body – which shocked him and made him feel like a desperate whore craving to be fucked.

All around him sounds of pleasure reached his ears, and when he caught sight of a slave being fucked by two Masters, Steve found that he couldn’t look away. He halted and watched the sub writhe beneath the Dominants, two cocks sliding in and out of his hole with ease. It caused lust to spread through Steve’s veins like heat, and it all pooled in his crotch. He’d been semi-hard before, but now he was hard, his cock twitching against his thigh.

“You like that?” An unknown voice asked.

Steve’s head snapped sideways, finding a Dominant standing dangerously close. He was a bit taller but not as broad as he was, but everything about him screamed power and control. The man’s dark eyes burned with desire, all aimed at him, and Steve unintentionally took a step away, his eyes searching for Tony – Tony who was nowhere to be found.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

“No need to look so scared,” The man laughed, but the sound was cold, almost detached, “If that–” He nodded his head towards the slave being double penetrated, “–is something you like, I would love to propose it to your Master. You’re very pretty. I wouldn’t mind fucking you.”

“No thanks,” Steve nearly spit out the words, just the idea of his hands on his body unsettling him. He wanted to turn away from him, leave him behind and not give him any more thought for the rest of the evening, but the man grabbed hold of his chin and squeezed hard, locking Steve in place.

Steve latched a hand around the man’s wrist, wanting to pull the hand away, but the man was unrelenting.

“You’re disrespecting me.”

“I’m not to be touched,” Steve gritted out, anger darkening his eyes, “Hence the white collar.”

“Then you shouldn’t have wandered away from your Master, slave,” The man hissed. His face contorted with hostility and his grip on Steve’s jaw tightened even more, physically hurting him now. “I should punish you.”

“Let him go.”

Relief crashed into Steve’s body like a wave crashing into a rocky shore. It was wild and unpredictable, but a thing of beauty. He let out a sigh when the man let go of him and he instantly turned to Tony, tension slipping away from him as soon as Tony placed a hand to his lower back, the gesture small but very much possessive. And protective.

“You have a mouthy slave,” The man told Tony.

“And you’re not entirely grasping the whole Dom-sub-concept, are you?”

Steve had never seen Tony so hostile, which was probably only logical given the fact that he hadn’t spent time with him before Sunday. Still, to have him jump in and defend him, protect him, it sent a shiver down Steve’s back. He pressed himself up against Tony’s side, seeking his warmth, letting it engulf him. Tony was his Master and he trusted him completely, something he hadn’t thought possibly in such a short time-span.

“Mr. Williams,” A new voice said.

Steve watched another man approach. He wore a dark suit, had short, blond hair and vibrant colored eyes. He was smaller than Steve by about four inches, and he definitely wasn’t as muscled, but by the way everyone stepped aside for him, Steve could tell he was important and powerful.

“This is the third time you’ve caused trouble in one night, Mr. Williams, so I’d like you to leave now.”

“I’m not causing any trouble, Mr. Barton,” The man named Mr. Williams said heatedly, “This slave simply–”

Mr. Barton snapped his fingers and two waiters instantly walked up to them, setting their plates aside and flanking Mr. Williams. “Escort him out of here,” Mr. Barton said with a note of exasperation to his voice, “He’s banned for a month. Make sure Darcy is informed so she can kick him out should he return.”

Steve watched with wide, startled eyes as the man was dragged away, cursing and kicking. Murmurs spread through the crowd, slaves seeking the safety of their Masters much like he had already done, but as soon as Mr. Williams was gone, he was erased from their thoughts and everyone returned to their business.

“My apologies, Mr. Stark,” Mr. Barton said, “Enjoy the champagne, it’s on the house.”

“A month is nothing, Clint,” Tony said flippantly. He slipped a hand around Steve’s waist, his thumb stroking Steve’s hipbone, and Steve melted into the touch that comforted him and soothed him. He laid his head on Tony’s shoulders and closed his eyes for a moment, hoping to calm his nerves and the racing of his heart. “Ban him for half a year and I’ll be a satisfied customer.”

Mr. Barton sighed audibly, and Steve, eyes still closed, could imagine the faint annoyance lining his features.

“Fine, but only because you’re a regular,” He said, drawling out the words, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “And because you pay half of our bills.”

“I’m not _that_ good of a customer,” Tony replied.

Something shifted in the air then, causing Steve to open his eyes and pick up his head.

“Tell Natasha I said hi,” Tony smiled, amiably slapping Clint Barton on the back of his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me again, you asshole,” Clint scolded, but the amusement in his gaze stripped the heat from his words, “You know what Nat did to you last time.”

It all clicked then. How Steve hadn’t figured it out before was beyond him, but he finally understood who Clint Barton was. Natasha Romanov was a Mistress, there was no doubt about it, and before him stood her sub. Yet nothing about Clint Barton indicated that he liked to submit. No, as he stood there, eyes blazing with confidence, Steve felt peculiarly intimidated by him.

“I shall never forget,” Tony said. He looked horrified. “I thought I was going to lose that finger for sure.” He turned to Steve, his hand slipping from his hip to his ass, and Steve’s cheeks turned bright red. “Never underestimate Mrs. Romanov,” He told Steve, “And _never_ leave my side when I tell you not to.” He slapped Steve’s ass, hard, leaving the skin stinging.

Steve gasped. His cock twitched.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Mr. Barton smiled, and then he was gone.

Steve stared at Tony with wide, lustful eyes. The skin of his ass still burned, but the way Tony was now caressing it, his touch light and soft, made Steve crave more. He pushed his ass back, into Tony’s touch, and moaned softly. He didn’t know why the slap had such a strong effect on him. Peggy had forced him into submissiveness on more than one occasion and sometimes she had spanked him, but never had he felt so desperate for more.

“The things I want to do to you,” Tony started wistfully. With one hand still on Steve’s ass, he turned to him completely and reached up to brush a thumb over Steve’s lower lip. And Steve knew how to play the game, knew how to seduce a man. He sucked Tony’s thumb into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip. “Fuck, I want to tear you apart and kiss you back together.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Steve asked huskily.

Tony grinned and pulled his thumb out of Steve’s mouth. He grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him down the hallway, through the dozens of Masters and slaves. A few Dominants whistled as they walked by, causing Steve’s face to flush brightly red, _again_ , which was something he’d have to work on in the future.

He ignored all the others, and instead focused completely on Tony walking before him. He focused on their intertwined hands and on the way Tony’s muscles ripped beneath his clothes as he eagerly brought him to a room on the second floor of the building.

He couldn’t imagine Peggy ever bringing him here. And he couldn’t imagine visiting a place like this with the other Dominants he had dated. No, this place was dark and dangerous, and it caused Steve’s heart to beat excitedly against his ribcage, his limbs trembling ever so slightly, his cock throbbing against his thigh. He hadn’t expected that, but it seemed there was a bit of an exhibitionist-side to him. He loved that people could see him, but not touch him. He loved that everyone knew he was his Master’s and his Master’s alone. He felt safe.

Steve paused and took in his surroundings. The room Tony had brought him to was empty except for a horizontal metal slab that had cuffs and a hole in the center that had been placed extremely strategically. It was enough to have his nerves return, tickling him just underneath his skin. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. It was just there, stirring his apprehension.

“Relax,” Tony told him as he moved to stand behind Steve, his hands resting against his hips, his chin resting on top of his shoulder, “You have to trust me, pet, and you’ll have to let go. Can you do that?”

Steve’s mouth had gone dry, but he nodded. He wanted this – or he wanted to at least _try_ this. And he did trust Tony. He just didn’t trust anyone else. He let Tony push him towards the metal slab, glad for the guiding hands on his skin, the warmth of the touch grounding him. He climbed onto the slab and lied down on his stomach, his legs spread open and his arms against his sides.

Tony tied him down, the metal of the cuffs pressing against his joints. Steve twisted his hands, testing the restraints, and found that there was barely any room to move. If he wanted to leave, he couldn’t. That was how much trust he was putting into his Master. It scared and aroused him.

“Lift your hips,” Tony commanded.

He did, and Tony guided his hard cock through the round hole in the middle of the slab. Just the feeling of Tony’s touch had a shiver spread through his body, gathering at the root of his cock.

Tony pressed a button to the side of slab which suddenly, mechanically, moved into a more vertical position until it formed an angle of about forty-five degrees. Steve tried to catch a glimpse of Tony, but he stood just out of sight.

His cock twitched when Tony took hold of it, but Steve grew suspicious when Tony didn’t stroke him. He groaned when he felt Tony slip a cock-ring on him, the object tight around his girth.

“What are you planning?” He had to ask. Sure, he put his faith in his Master, but he’d like to know what to expect.

Tony’s face popped up beside the slab, a wicked grin curving his lips upward. “Aren’t you a curious thing,” He said, “But alright, I’ll indulge you.” He began to play with Steve’s hair, smoothing it back and twisting the edges between the tips of his fingers. “I’m going to make you cum three times. You won’t think it’ll be possible, but I’m going to work a bit of magic on you. I’m going to drive you mad, Steve.” He touched his forehead against Steve’s and stared into his eyes. “Do you want me to drive you mad?”

 _God yes_ , Steve thought, but with Tony so close, his warm breath on his face, numbing his mind, Steve was unable to use his voice. He just nodded, breathing hard.

“Good.” Tony pulled back and tapped the cock-ring which buzzed to life, Steve jumping as the vibrations hummed through his cock. Tony chuckled darkly and circled around the metal slab, which freed Steve’s view of the doorway.

Four men were standing to the side, leaning back against the wall and enjoying the view. They had starved expressions on their faces and muttered to each other. Steve couldn’t help but stare at them, watching different thoughts flicker behind their wide eyes. They all looked like they wanted to touch him, fuck him, devour him, and Steve panicked when he realized he wouldn’t be able to stop them should they try.

“Steve, you’re losing it,” Came Tony’s voice behind him suddenly. He stood close and had a knee between his legs, pressing up against his ass. “If you want to enjoy this, you have to let go.”

He tried to focus on his breathing. In and out. In and out. When that didn’t work, he tried focusing on the cock-ring vibrating around his dick, but it was hard to derive pleasure from it while those men were still drinking him in. Steve couldn’t tear his gaze away from them. He wanted to be Tony’s, just Tony’s, all alone.

“You have trouble letting go, don’t you?” Tony asked. He nuzzled the short hairs behind Steve’s ear and kissed the back of his neck. “You’re too aware of your surroundings, too aware of those watching you, but no worries, I’ll help you let go.” He rubbed his knuckles down Steve’s spine, kneading them, and much to Steve’s surprise, he found himself relaxing a bit. “Do you trust me?”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “You’re my Master,” He said, his voice shaking.

“Good,” Tony said.

Something soft slipped over his eyes – a blindfold. Steve sucked in a sharp breath and fought the urge to shake away the silky fabric from his face that darkened his world. Tony tied it tightly around his eyes and rewarded his obedience with a brush of his lips against his. Steve sighed against them.

“It’s time for you to cum now,” Tony whispered to him.

Before Steve could respond, before he could even think of a response, Tony’s warmth disappeared, and he was lying bare on the metal slab. The vibrations of the cock-ring felt more intense all of a sudden. The cold metal beneath his body felt even colder. Murmurs reached his ears, but he couldn’t understand any words. He knew those men were still watching him, enjoying the scene playing out before them, but it was easier to forget about them now.

There was a whoosh followed by sharp pain on his back. Steve cried out and tensed. A thousand needles were seemingly pricking his skin, ripping it apart, but then as quickly as the pain had flashed, it disappeared, leaving Steve feeling nothing but the cock-ring stimulating him, driving him closer and closer to an orgasm while simultaneously holding it off. It was maddening, just as Tony had promised.

Tony whipped him again, and Steve squirmed. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander. He let go, as Tony wanted. When the whip touched his skin a third time, it didn’t hurt as much anymore, and the lines between pleasure and pain faded. Steve surrendered to the feeling, and surrendered to his Master. He didn’t know why or how. It was simply an instinctual act. He was a submissive, a slave, and all he wanted was to please his Master and seek release himself. And he was getting it.

The fourth time the whip licked his skin, his cock spurted cum without his permission. Steve shuddered, trembling against the metal slab, and tugged at the restraints. Pleasure burned his body, and when he was whipped a fifth and final time, he cried out, his head filling with madness. There was pain and pleasure and he couldn’t distinguish between them. There was just him and his Master, tied together through the whip, leaving Steve aching for more.

“That’s it, pet,” Tony said proudly once Steve fell still against the slab. He stepped up to him, the sound of his footsteps deafening to Steve’s ears, the feeling of his fingertips against the skin of his back too hot.

He realized that Tony was tracing the welts on his back, five of them.

“That’s one,” Tony murmured against the back of his shoulder.

Tony mouthed at the welt closest to Steve’s shoulder blade, Steve moaning at the softness of those lips against the sore skin. Tony moved down to the second welt, lavishing it with kisses and licking at the ends, which drew a hiss from Steve’s lips. And then he felt a warm, wet finger between his ass-cheeks, prodding his hole. Steve instantly pushed his ass down, wanting that finger inside of him, but with the way he was tied down, he had no room to move. But Tony wasn’t cruel, had never been cruel, and pushed the finger inside of him. And then another one. Tony scissored him for a minute before adding a third one. Steve pressed his forehead against the cool metal and bit down on his tongue. There were so many sounds he wanted to make, but he refused.

“Come on, pet,” Tony said to him in between kisses, “I’m waiting.”

With four fingers inside of him, turning and twisting, along with the cock-ring still buzzing at the base of his dick, it was damn hard for Steve not to lose his shit and just scream. He wanted more. Just more. But it turned out Tony was crueler than he thought he was. Finger-fucking him, kissing the welts, the cock-ring, it was causing Steve’s muscles to tense, desperate to find release.

Tony thrusted his fingers deep into Steve’s ass, deep enough to prod his prostate, and Steve couldn’t prevent the cry that slipped from his lips. He was desperately trying to push down on Tony’s fingers, wanting them deeper, wanting Tony to fill him more, but it wasn’t enough. His cock was hard, pre-cum dripping from the slit already, but he couldn’t get there, couldn’t get to the top.

“Steve,” Tony breathed against the shell of Steve’s ear, “I want you to cum again now.”

“I can’t,” Steve whined. He didn’t know whether he wanted to fuck himself on those fingers in his ass or thrust into cold air around his cock. There was too much stimulation, and not enough. “I can’t, Master, I _can’t_.”

“Yes, you can, Steve,” Tony licked Steve’s earlobe into his mouth and sucked hard, “Cum for me, pet.”

Tony shoved his fingers particularly hard and deep into Steve’s heat, and Steve came cursing loudly and tears stinging his eyes. Tony finger-fucked him through the orgasm and the vibrations running through his cock were verging on the edge of painful, but Steve couldn’t get enough of it, which made him doubt his own sanity. Could a normal man enjoy this? Was he screwed up in the head?

Tony didn’t give him the chance to divulge those thoughts any further. He withdrew his fingers and after pecking a quick kiss to Steve’s lips, he stepped around the slab. Steve listened carefully to his surroundings, or as carefully as he could, because his own body seemed to buzz so loudly and wildly that it drowned out all other sounds.

The vibrations stopped and Steve let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s two,” Tony said.

Oh right.

“No, no, I can’t anymore,” He said, which might be pretty sad since he’d only cum twice before. But the intensity of his surroundings, the soreness of his back, his twitching, throbbing cock … He couldn’t take another round like that. “Stop, please,” He begged. He didn’t realize a few tears had slipped from his eyes, his blindfold wet now.

Tony’s tongue flicking across the overly-sensitive head of his cock made Steve sob in hopelessness. It hurt and it felt so fucking good.

“Master …”

“Hush,” Tony said, “Let go, Steve. Let me take care of you.”

Steve knocked his head twice against the metal slab, needing to focus and get a grip on himself. He didn’t ask Tony to stop anymore. He didn’t dare to utter a single word, because he knew he might not like what would leave his lips. He’d start begging for more of Tony’s mouth, but he refused to sound desperate.

Tony sucked at the slit of his cock, the tip of his tongue pressing against it as if he wanted in, as if he wanted more, and Steve wailed softly.

Slowly, agonizingly, Tony swallowed his cock, his tongue swirling along the underside and stimulating the thick vein there. Steve tried to push deeper into Tony’s mouth, wanting and needing more of that warmth and wetness, but the metal slab prevented him. He pulled at the cuffs and pressed his body firmly against the metal, just because he had to move _somehow_.

Everything around him faded – noises, certain scents, shifts in the shadows. There was just him and Tony. His entire body thrummed, something alive just underneath his skin, driving him onwards. Steve was breathing heavily now, his mind filling with images of Tony on his knees, pleasuring him with his mouth.

The orgasm took him off guard, Steve gasping in pain and pleasure as his cock twitched inside his Master’s mouth, giving him all that he had left to give. Tony moaned around his girth, swallowing around the head of Steve’s dick which bumped the back of his throat. There was nothing he could do; neither speak nor move nor _think_. There was just him and his Master, and the pleasure shared between them.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get a grip on himself, tried to stop breathing so hard. He didn’t even realize Tony’s warm and wet mouth disappeared.

“Steve,” Came a soft voice, pulling Steve back to the room, to the metal slab. Hands folded around his, holding them. “I’m going to untie you now. You’re up for it?”

Probably not.

He nodded.

The metal slab moved horizontal again, and the cuffs fell away from his wrists and ankles. Tony helped him sit up, removed the blindfold, the sudden light too much for Steve’s eyes, but he didn’t let him stand up, not yet. He shifted in between Steve’s legs and ran his hands up and down Steve’s arms, his nails scratching his skin ever so slightly.

Steve had yet to open his eyes.

“Take a deep breath,” Tony told him.

Steve leaned forward until his forehead rested against his Master’s shoulder, and very slowly, his surroundings came back into focus. He heard admiring whispers all around him, other Masters who had enjoyed what Tony had done to him, but Steve no longer cared about them. This was just about him and Tony; this was between a slave and his Master.

“That’s it,” Tony said proudly, his hands still caressing Steve’s skin – his arms, his chest, his sides, his shoulders.

“Master,” Steve said, just because he needed it said, because he needed to form the actual link. He opened his eyes and blinked warily.

“I’ve got you,” Tony pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “I told you I got you.”

He nodded against Tony’s shoulder and reveled at the way Tony’s hands drifted down his back, over the sensitive welts. They still stung, but in a good way. They were a constant reminder of Tony’s desire for him, the marks now a sign that he belonged to another.

“I know.”

There was a long silence, Steve using it as an opportunity to pull himself back together. He straightened his back and exhaled slowly. The world had come back into focus, but Steve only had attention for his Master, for the way his dark eyes stood wide and were filled with passion.

“Come on,” Tony’s hands tightened around Steve’s shoulders and forced him upright, off of the table. Steve swayed on his feet, every muscle in his body burning, but Tony kept him standing. “I’ve got another room I want to take you to.”


	5. Wednesday, Part II

Steve didn’t wander away this time. He stayed close to his Master, and Tony couldn’t prevent the edges of his lips curving upward at the realization that his presence comforted him, that it made him feel safe and protected. And oh, he wanted to protect his pet alright. He’d wanted to break Mr. Williams’ hands for daring to touch what was his. He wanted to punch him in the face, too, but then he might have gotten kicked out as well.

Guiding Steve through another long hallway, he enjoyed the way his baby blue eyes darkened each time he saw a scene that aroused him. There was a room where loud, upbeat music echoed off of the walls. Steve had halted at the doorway, glancing inside to watch a dozen slaves dance together, sweat making their skin glisten underneath the spotlights, their bodies brushing together. Their Masters stood at the side, enjoying a drink and chatting to each other or simply watching their sub move along with the rhythm of the beat.

He had tugged Steve along again by hooking a finger around his collar, something he should have done sooner. The way Steve’s body instantly responded to the silent order had Tony’s skin tingle. There was just something about the way a submissive obeyed his Dominant that caused Tony to feel more alive than he thought possible. It made his senses sharper; he saw and heard more, and he felt everything more intensely – a soft touch being softer and a rough one scraping at his skin.

A soft wailing reached his ears. Tony looked to his left and saw a slave on his hands and knees. He was naked, his dark skin beautiful underneath the light hand of his Master. Slowly, beads were pushed inside of him, each one bigger than the last. The man writhed underneath his Master’s touch and pushed his hips back.

Tony watched, mesmerized, and vowed to do that to Steve, too, the next time they came here.

Only there wouldn’t be a next time. Tony’s eyes snapped away from the scene and landed on Steve who was watching the scene with sharp interest, his body vibrating with energy because of it. He looked wrecked, torn apart, but so very beautiful. And he would be gone Sunday evening. As it should be.

“Come on,” He said, curling a hand around Steve’s wrist.

They walked onwards, and Tony couldn’t help but glance at his pet once in a while, observing him. It was astonishing how quickly Steve had adjusted to his environment, how quickly he’d gotten a hold of himself while simultaneously letting go.

The room they walked in was spacious. High, tainted windows let in dim moonlight. The lights overhead cast everything in faint shadows, but there was enough light to properly see everything that transpired around them. There was a bar at the far end of the room, various Dominants having a drink while their slaves were seated on chairs lined up along the walls. Some of the empty chair revealed that dildo’s had been attached to them, filling the slaves’ asses.

Other chairs were regular. Dominants sat on them, their submissive in their lap. Some were simply enjoying a break, their eyes scanning everything that happened around them.

Tony guided Steve to a chair with a large, purple dildo.

“No, please,” Came Steve’s desperate voice. He latched onto Tony’s wrist, demanding his Master’s attention. “I can’t.”

Tony offered him a reassuring, encouraging smile. He stood in front of him, their bodies touching, and traced a finger down the sharp line of Steve’s jaw. He could feel a light stubble, the man in need of shaving, or maybe not. He looked like he could pull off a beard. And there was no denying; Steve Rogers was a handsome man, and standing before him, naked with only a white collar around his neck, made him irresistible.

“Of course you can,” He said. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the collar. He felt Steve shudder and lean forward into the touch, which made Tony smirk. “You don’t want to disappoint me, do you, pet?”

Steve groaned and let his head fall back, baring his throat to Tony – Tony who kissed the skin just behind Steve’s ear and trailed his hands down Steve’s chest. He could feel his racing heart beat wildly against his ribcage.

“ _Master_ ,” Steve breathed. He looked into Tony’s eyes, his pupils dilated, obliterating the blue. His hands curled around Tony’s wrists for a moment before they slipped down. They came to rest against the button of Tony’s trousers, unmoving, but challenging. “I rather it be your cock that fills me, not a fake one.”

“Shit, Steve,” Tony moaned. He’d like to think Steve was a virgin in all of this, but he wasn’t. He knew how to play the game, how to please his Master, which reminded him that Steve had had Masters before. The thought shouldn’t frustrate him as much as it did. And once again he was reminded that the submissive held the true power in any D&s relationship.

“Alright,” He said. He moved to sit down on one of the chairs without a toy and beckoned a waiter closer. They didn’t only serve drinks here, and Tony quickly purchased a small bottle of lube from him.

Steve watched him with eager eyes and easily caught the bottle Tony threw at him. He stared at it for a moment, as if confused what he was supposed to do with it, but then he unscrewed the lid and poured some of the clear liquid into the palm of his hand.

Tony unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock free. He’d been hard all evening, but none of what he’d done to Steve had been for his own pleasure. No, he’d been focused entirely on his pet, wanting to wreck him, destroy him, and have him enjoy it. And he _had_ enjoyed it. Steve had surrendered completely to him, and the simple thought had his cock twitch in his hand. But now it was his turn.

Steve knelt down before him, positioning himself between his Master’s legs, and curled his hand around his length, rubbing the lube all over it. Tony would have sighed and closed his eyes, wanting to focus on nothing but the feeling of Steve’s hand preparing him, but he wanted to see his slave, too, because _God_ , what a sight it was! Steve’s eyes were fixed on his crotch and his lips were parted, breath coming out heavily, as if he was about to take him into his mouth.

Reaching out, Tony carded a hand through Steve’s hair, something he loved to do, and pulled him back to the room. Steve’s gaze shifted away from his cock and focused on his face again, but he still looked hazy, out of it. It was perfection.

“That’s enough,” He hummed softly, “You know what to do.”

Steve nodded mindlessly and stood. He parted his knees and moved closer to his Master, and if Tony were to lean down now, he could easily suck the tip of Steve’s cock into his mouth. It was admirable how he was hard again after already having cum three times. Tony smirked at the idea of forcing him to cum again.

Carefully, Steve lowered himself as he guided Tony’s cock to his hole. He’d been well stretched by Tony’s fingers before, but it was still a tight fit. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, obviously focusing on nothing but the burning sensation which consumed him.

Without thinking, Tony braced Steve’s face between his hands and lifted it, kissing each eyelid.

Once Steve sat down on his lap, straddling him, he let out a relieved sigh. Tony allowed him a moment to adjust to the intrusion and studied Steve’s features more closely. He traced the sharp line of his jaw, his brow knitting together in concentration, his lips slightly parted. Others were watching them, Tony could feel their rousing eyes on them, but he paid them no mind. To him, the room was empty save for Steve. The rest was non-existent.

When Steve rolled his hips experimentally, Tony had to bite down on his tongue to prevent any obscene sounds from escaping. He placed his hands on Steve’s hips and squeezed tightly. His eyes fell shut when Steve nuzzled the crook of his neck, his hands roaming his arms before they slipped underneath his shirt. Steve started riding him then, lifting his hips and pushing them back down with a steady rhythm.

Tony’s hands slipped to Steve’s back, the tips of his fingers sliding across the five welts he put there. Steve jumped at the touches, but he never once lost the rhythm, and Tony rewarded him by flicking his tongue over one of his hard, red nipples.

Steve cried out and faltered.

“Focus, pet,” Tony reprimanded him.

Steve nodded against the side of his neck and began moving again, his erection trapped between their bodies. The head was red and swollen, overly stimulated, and Tony added to it by taking it in hand, stroking it.

“No, no,” Steve gasped. He lost the rhythm again and squirmed in Tony’s lap. His face contorted with lines of pleasure and pain, but Tony didn’t let go, nor did he stop pumping him. “Master, please …”

“Keep going,” Tony breathed. With the way Steve writhed in his lap, hips moving back and forth, Tony could barely keep himself together anymore. He’d been achingly hard all evening and now Steve was riding him while he was producing the softest, most desperate sounds, and Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to last for very long.

“One last time, Steve,” He forced out, “Cum for me one last time.”

And he did. The orgasm slammed into him, hard, causing him to freeze up, lips parted in a silent cry. Tony no longer stroked him. He just held him, squeezing the root of his cock which spurted a few drops of cum. He’d been completely exploited, his body having barely anything left to give, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Steve hardly seemed to know what to do with himself, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

His ass spasmed around Tony’s cock, and Tony thrusted his hips upward, drawing a cry from Steve’s lips and finding more of his tight, hot ass. He came a few seconds later, coating Steve’s walls with his seed, feeling it slide out of him with ease, and he fucked it right back up his ass until his cock turned flaccid and was spent. His hands were painting Steve’s hips with bruises and he leaned forward, teeth sinking into Steve’s flesh, right underneath the collar. Tony waited for the high to diminish.

Steve turned limp in his lap, his head lying against Tony’s shoulder, his chest heaving. He didn’t move, and Tony was quite fine with staying in the position for a little while longer, his cock still up Steve’s ass. He let the tips of his fingers trail up and down Steve’s thighs.

When Steve still didn’t move, Tony signaled a waiter and purchased another small vial from him. The waiter poured the contents into Tony’s hands, and left again. Gently, Tony rubbed his hands over the welts, and Steve finally stirred. His arms folded around Tony’s shoulders, holding on tightly, and he buried his face deep in the crook of Tony’s neck.

“Stop, please,” He begged, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know,” Tony told him as he continued to rub the cream all over Steve’s back, “But this will take the sting out of it.” He couldn’t help but smile when Steve relaxed and even pushed back into his Master’s hands. The effects were instant, Tony knew.

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Steve murmured a moment later, “It would have been a reminder of this evening.”

Tony hummed and nearly said ‘ _next time_ ’.

Once satisfied that Steve’s back would be unmarked the next morning, he let his hands fall away. Steve pushed himself away from Tony, just enough so they could look into each other’s eyes. Tony swallowed heavily when he noticed how hooded Steve’s eyes were, the afterglow of their shared experience clearly numbing him. Tony understood what that felt like. He felt it, too. It was a powerful thing, what a Dominant and a submissive shared.

“What do you need?” He asked softly.

“Kiss me,” Steve asked.

Tony couldn’t deny him that. Aftercare was important, especially after everything he’d put Steve through, and if Steve wanted to be kissed in order to feel safe and protected then he would kiss the hell out of him. Only Steve didn’t look like he needed quite _that_. Nodding, Tony closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. Steve melted into Tony’s touch when he slipped his hands down Steve’s side.

Steve parted his lips, and Tony licked into his mouth, reveling at the heat of it. He enjoyed the taste of his pet and he enjoyed the way his body felt so much hotter than his. He trailed kisses down Steve’s jaw next and brushed his lips down his throat, sucking at a pulsating vein there.

Steve sighed happily.

For a long moment, they just sat there, their bodies coming down from the high.

Eventually, Steve stood with a pained groan, his entire body aching. Tony was pleased about it. He tucked himself away, not minding the white stains on his trousers and shirt, and stood, too. Other Dominants were still watching them, and as the evening went on, it became easier and easier to ignore them. It seemed the same went for Steve. He was completely focused on his Master.

He guided Steve out of the room.

The hallway felt more crowded somehow, and Tony had to zigzag his way through heated bodies. Steve stayed close behind, his hand gripping the edge of his shirt, not wanting to lose him – which was good, because Tony didn’t want to risk another Master touching his pet.

A Mistress wearing a tight, leather dress passed them by, her slave trailing after her. Tony wouldn’t have paid her any attention weren’t it for the fact that Steve watched her intently, his blue eyes widening, and the grip he had on Tony’s shirt tightened. Tony observed the woman for a moment, wondering what it was about her that managed to lock Steve’s attention on her.

Brown curls flowed behind her back. She had a round face with full red lips and an austere look in her dark, brown eyes that told everyone she wasn’t to be messed with. She was fierce, demanding, and very, very attractive. And yet it still didn’t explain why Steve watched her go, suddenly looking confused and lost.

“What?” Tony asked. He hadn’t meant for such sharp amusement to ring in his voice. “You’ve never seen a Mistress before?”

Steve’s gaze snapped back to him. He swallowed heavily. “Of course I have.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Do you know her?” He asked, though it seemed unlikely.

“No, I don’t,” Steve answered. He lowered his gaze and ran a hand over his tired features. He didn’t look dazed anymore, though. In fact, he looked sharper than ever, a chaos of thoughts whirling in his mind. “She reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

It clicked then, and Tony wasn’t sure what to do with the information he’d just received. Only, he wasn’t supposed to do anything with it, he realized. It made it easier to come up with a reply. “I’d never have pegged you to have a Mistress,” He said with a shrug as he started walking again, “You’re full of surprises, pet.”

Steve stayed quiet.

Darcy handed Steve his clothes back, and it was such a shame to see him get dressed again, covering up his long limbs, that perky ass, that magnificently curved cock. Tony watched him intently and once he was completely dressed, he stepped up to him and removed the white collar which he handed back to Darcy along with a nice tip. Darcy winked at him. He liked her.

The cold evening air helped Tony straighten out his thoughts. It had been a wonderful evening, one he would never repeat, but that was for the best. That way, this evening could never be spoiled. Steve walked silently beside him, hands in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes down.

“If you don’t stop thinking about that woman, I’ll give you something else to think about,” He said, slightly annoyed, “And I’m not sure you can handle it after everything we did in the club.”

Steve’s ears burned red. “I’m not thinking about that woman.”

“Then stop thinking about your old Mistress.”

At that, Steve pressed his lips tightly together. For the first time, he looked angry, which was a look that shouldn’t turn Tony on, but it did. He nearly commented again on the old Mistress, just to get another reaction like that, but he was able to stop himself before he made a serious mistake. The last thing he wanted was to offend Steve and watch him leave prematurely. They weren’t all like him, after all. They couldn’t all let go of their Dominants or submissives as easily as he could. They didn’t have that privilege. Tony had stopped pitying them for it a long time ago.

“Sorry,” He ended up saying, “It’s none of my business.”

“It’s really not,” Steve said, but he stepped up closer to Tony’s side, their shoulders brushing together.

Tony smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him even closer. “You’ve done marvelously,” He said. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of Steve’s shoulder and squeezed his hip. “Everyone was jealous of me. Everyone wished they _were_ me so they could wreck you like I did.”

Steve slipped a hand over the one around his hip. “Thanks for that,” He said, glancing at Tony from underneath dark lashes. He was doing it on purpose, Tony was convinced of it. “It was … riveting.”

“Riveting?” Tony echoed in disbelief. There was no heat in his voice, though. “That’s it? _Riveting?_ ”

Steve laughed, the sound warm and pleasant, and Tony liked hearing it as much as he’d enjoyed the anger flashing behind his eyes. “It was amazing,” He said, “Exciting, awesome, breath-taking, frightening, overwhelming, mind blowing. It that better?”

Tony chuckled. “Much better.”

-x-x-x-

Steve twisted and turned in bed. The sheets suddenly didn’t feel as soft anymore, the pillow not as fluffy. He turned on his back and stared up at the dark ceiling, sighing. There was too much energy thrumming through his veins that kept him awake. And there was a strange unease setting in his bones which Steve couldn’t explain. It felt like he missed something.

It had been a long and intense evening, and he couldn’t shake the residue the club had left on his skin. He’d hoped a long and hot shower would have washed it away, would have helped him settle down, but nothing had helped. He kept replying the events from the club again and again, heat spreading through his veins because of it. He felt too warm to be comfortable and he was just wearing cotton pajama pants.

And his back ached. The welts didn’t sting, as Tony had promised, but he felt them every time he moved – and he loved it. They were a constant reminder of what his Master had done to him, of Tony’s attention solely focused on him in an environment that held so many distractions. Steve already craved another moment like that, to have his Master lavish him with attention. And pleasure.

Giving up, knowing he would never be able to catch any sleep like this, Steve threw away the Egyptian cotton sheets from his body and slinked out of bed.

The penthouse was quiet and, in the darkness of the night, it looked different. Steve knew there were little to no personal items around, and right now it just felt empty and cold. The floor felt icy beneath his bare feet, and Steve shuddered.

He padded towards the master-bedroom, and halted when he stood before the closed door, waiting.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

Hesitantly and soundlessly, while his mind screamed at him to stop, Steve pushed open the door. His body was moving on its own, refusing to listen to reason. He needed this, no matter how much it confused him.

Tony lay in bed with a peaceful look on his face, and Steve wondered what a man like him dreamed about. He approached him, careful not to make a sound since he didn’t want to disturb his Master’s rest. It was strange seeing Tony sleep, wrapped up in blankets with his knees pulled up to his chest. It was strange to see his features so open and so calm. Nothing about him screamed dominance, yet still Steve was pulled towards him.

He kneeled by the bed and let his head rest on the mattress by Tony’s knees. Just his Master’s presence helped him settle down, his eyes already fluttering shut despite the position he was in. He was now more comfortable than he’d been lying underneath soft cotton sheets.

A hand ran through his hair and startled him, but at the same time, he instinctually leaned into the touch. He opened his eyes and instantly locked gazes with Tony, the man staring at him in the darkness, unmoving and unjudging. The hand shifted to the back of his neck and across the side of his shoulder.

Steve shuffled a little closer and curled his fingers around the bed sheets.

“Come here,” Tony said softly.

Steve crawled onto the mattress and lied down beside his Master, reveling at the way his hand slipped down his bare chest, fingers touching him ever so lightly. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed Tony’s touch to ground himself, to keep his mind from spinning. That was what he’d missed back in his own bedroom.

Tony’s hand moved to his chin. Steve hadn’t realized the skin there was sensitive.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

Steve shook his head. There was a faint bruise where Mr. Williams had grabbed him, but he hardly felt it. Hell, he hadn’t given it any more thought since he spotted it in the mirror earlier. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant; it was just there, a reminder of what another Dominant had done to him without his consent or Tony’s. He hoped it would fade by morning. Steve only wanted the welts on his back and the bruises on his hips.

“It’s been a wild evening, huh?” Tony asked. His thumb was still running over the bruise.

Steve nodded and curled into himself. He was exhausted, and Tony’s touch was lulling him to sleep.

“Sleep, pet,” Tony whispered to him.

And he did.

-x-x-x-

A dream woke him early in the morning. The sun was only just peeking over the horizon, casting New York City and the bedroom he was in in an orange glow. Steve shifted a little, his muscles sore, a good kind of sore, and found himself lying curled up at Tony’s back, the warmth that radiated off of his body soothing him. He wished he could fall back asleep, but the dream didn’t let go of him.

Carefully as not to wake Tony, Steve sat up and slipped out of bed. Scenes of the dream echoed vividly in his mind, but that wasn’t what engrossed him. The music accompanying the scenes was. It was a soft melody, a light one, but it had dark tones vibrating just underneath the surface.

Once in the living room, he hunted down a piece of paper and a pencil and began scribbling down the melody. It had been a long time since music had seeped into his dreams like that, haunting him, but he welcomed it back with open arms. Bucky had been right once again. To experience the freedom of being one’s submissive allowed him back the freedom of writing music. It was strange and frustrating how those two things coincided.

Since the paper he’d found was empty of staves, Steve settled on writing down the sequence of accords and hoped he would remember the details later.

Seated on the floor wearing nothing but pajama pants by the floor-to-ceiling window, the early morning-sun warming him up, he filled page after page, scribbling down as much as he could, until a hand startled him out of his concentration. Momentarily confused, Steve looked up, blinking, and found Tony standing behind him. Only then did he remember exactly where he was.

“Oh, sorry,” He muttered as he looked at the mess he’d made. He quickly collected the pages that were littered around him, but Tony’s soft laugh made him stop. He glanced up again, unsure of what was happening, of why Tony was producing such a warm sound. He lifted an eyebrow at him, but Tony merely sat down beside him, legs crossed Indian-style.

“What are you doing?” He asked, picking up a piece of paper and staring at it. A frown creased his brow. He clearly had never been taught to read music, which surprised Steve.

“I couldn’t get this melody out of my head,” He confessed after a short silence, “And I didn’t want to forget it. I’m sorry for just taking your stuff, and for going through your stuff.” He glanced at the still opened cabinets that he’d gone through during his search for some paper and a pen.

Tony waved a dismissing hand around. “Never mind that,” He said, “Is it any good?” He pointed down at the letters that detailed the beginning of the music-piece, a C chord followed by a G chord followed by an Am chord and ending with an F chord.

Steve shrugged and let out a little sigh. “It sounds good in my head,” He said, “But I’ll only know for sure when I try it.”

A thoughtful look crossed Tony’s features and then he handed him the piece of paper back and stood. He held out a hand for Steve to take – which he did, though he wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. “Then let’s go and find out,” He said, smiling. His hand folded innocently around his upper arm. “We’ll head out to your place and you can work on it.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. His lips parted slightly, as if he was ready to spout out a few words, but his mind came up empty. He just couldn’t understand why Tony would want to spend time with him at a piano while he’d signed a contract that clearly stated he wanted to do … dirty things to him.

And Tony’s warm touch didn’t help him focus either, certainly not when that hand slipped down his arm and curled around his wrist.

“I’m being completely selfish here,” Tony grinned, which instantly put Steve at ease for some reason, “I’d like to hear you play again.”

Steve nodded. His gaze pierced Tony’s and a radiant smile filled his face. Just the idea of being back at the loft, of being able to sit down at his piano and work on this new piece, had excitement bubble just underneath his skin. And maybe Tony’s touch added to it. He couldn’t know.

“That would be great, actually,” He said, nodding.

“Then get dressed,” Tony said. His hand slipped down Steve’s chest, a finger flicking one of Steve’s nipples, causing it to harden instantly. “You’re very distracting right now.”

“Right,” Steve replied. His cheeks flushed red.

“And _that_ is very distracting, too,” Tony grinned.

“Okay,” Was all that came to his mind.


	6. Thursday

Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t … this. Tony parked the car on the side of the street and switched off the engine. For a moment he had been sure he’d taken a wrong turn, but Steve hadn’t said anything until he asked him to park in front of an old looking building. Trees lined the street side.

As soon as he exited the car, Tony felt a soft breeze shift through his clothes. Brooklyn was quiet, too quiet for his liking, and he really hadn’t expected it to be so peaceful. There weren’t a thousand cars honking all around or people shouting to sell their merchandise. There was no smell of cheap hot dogs or exhaust fumes. He wasn’t sure if he liked being here or not.

“I know it’s not a penthouse, but …” Steve was looking up at an old building, and if Tony wasn’t mistaken, it looked like it used to be a factory. “It’s home,” He concluded with a shrug.

He said nothing as he followed Steve inside and, again, what he had expected wasn’t what he got. Yes, the building looked old and almost withered on the outside, but the inside was new and modern. It had been completely renovated. Large windows let in sunlight and the uncovered orange bricks of the walls gave the whole place warmth, literally and figuratively. The wooden floor dampened their footsteps.

“Is all of this yours?” Tony asked curiously.

“I rent this together with Bucky.”

After the long hallway, they rounded a corner and arrived in the spacious, open room. More windows let in sunlight and gave view of a small backyard. Except for a dining table, a few chairs and couches and a coffee table there was nothing, not even a TV. Large paintings decorated the walls; his flat mate’s work most likely. At the far corner of the room was a small kitchenette with a sink, a refrigerator, and a stove. Tony had never seen anything like this, but he liked it. It was simple, but charming.

His gaze shifted towards Steve who watched him meticulously. He hadn’t realized that and Tony suddenly didn’t know how to behave. He cleared his throat and buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So, where do you play?” He asked, letting his eyes move around the room again, as if he could have missed something as big as a piano.

Steve smiled. “Follow me.”

He shouldn’t be here, Tony couldn’t help but think, but he trailed after Steve anyway, following him up a flight of stairs. The second floor of the building was one big room, too. A door to his left gave access to a bathroom, but that didn’t interest him. He walked forward, Steve standing back, and he let his eyes wander again. Yellow-tinted windows lined the right side, from floor to ceiling, and gave view of the street.

A bed stood in one corner of the room, neatly made, and a table stood in the other. Books and papers lay scattered everywhere, and when Tony got closer, picking them up, he saw they were all about music or music-sheets. Only then did he turn around to take in the piano in the center of the room.

“So this is where you compose,” He said.

It wasn’t a question, but Steve nodded anyway. Tony watched Steve, instantly mesmerized, as he sat down at the piano and lifted the fall board. The little, happy smile that flitted across Steve’s features didn’t go unmissed either. His bright blue eyes seemed even brighter when the tips of his fingers touched the keyboard.

When the first notes of a song sounded, Tony felt like they drifted towards him and embraced him. It was a soft tune, light, but it was filled with emotion. Slowly, not wanting to make a sound and disturb Steve, Tony sauntered closer towards the piano. He never took his eyes off of Steve, wanting to watch him play, to watch his body move as his fingers drifted over the keyboard. It was a beautiful sight and it drew him closer like a magnet.

He didn’t feel in control of himself anymore. His body moved on its own. He moved to stand behind Steve and let his gaze rake the back of his neck, all the way down to the edge of his shoulders. He watched how his muscles rippled beneath his skin with every small movement he made. Without thinking, his mind having grown strangely silent, Tony reached out and let the tips of his fingers trace a line on Steve’s upper arm.

The music faltered.

“Keep playing,” He said without missing a beat.

There was a moment of silence where just their breathing could be heard, but then Steve continued the song. He closed his eyes, Tony noticed, so he leaned in and brushed his lips against the side of Steve’s neck. He could hear the stuttering of Steve’s breath, and God, he didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t really have a plan, but he knew he wanted this. He wanted to touch Steve like this and taste him like this.

He was so fucking hard in his jeans.

His hand slipped down the front of Steve’s shirt, his fingers ghosting over his nipples, and Steve missed a note. The music stopped, and Tony punished him by pinching one of his nipples, hard. Steve let out a shaky moan and resumed playing.

Tony smiled against his shoulder and let his hand travel downwards again over those glorious abs.

“Master,” Steve sighed. He let his head fall back so it rested against Tony’s chest. It was astounding how those fingers kept moving across the keyboard, producing such a light song while Tony knew for a fact that he was driving him mad with his teasing, punishing touches.

He pulled his hand away from Steve’s body, but only so he could let it slip up Steve’s thigh. Steve instantly parted his knees, and Tony grinned.

“You eager little thing,” He told him as he dipped his hand between his legs and cupped his crotch. He found his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. Tony wanted to feel the hard, warm flesh beneath his hand, but just as he went to unbutton Steve’s jeans, a voice sounded.

“Am I interrupting?”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat and he jumped back, spinning around. A man stood by the door, leaning against the frame with his hands casually folded together behind his back. He had a smug grin on his face and his dark eyes vibrated with satisfaction. Paint stained his clothes and some even got in his hair.

Steve rose from the piano bench. “Tony, meet Bucky,” He said as he moved to stand beside him, “My cock-blocking asshole of a flat mate.”

“Hi, there,” Bucky said. He pushed himself away from the doorframe and walked to Tony, holding out a hand which Tony shook. He was still confused as to what the hell was going on, but that was entirely on him. He’d been so focused on Steve that he’d forgotten there was a world around him. “I hope you’re treating my best friend here well,” Bucky said.

Tony finally managed to snap out of it. “Define ‘treating him well’,” He replied.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you back until Sunday,” Bucky said.

“I was inspired,” Steve explained with a shrug, “And Tony offered to drive me here.”

To Tony’s surprise, Bucky actually looked thrilled. “You wrote something?” He asked.

Bucky looked like an excited puppy, and Tony couldn’t help but realize that he looked younger than he’d thought him to be. How old was he? Twenty-five? Actually, now that he thought of it, how old was Steve? Tony’s eyes slipped towards him, but he found that no matter how young he was, his eyes canceled everything. There was just something compelling about him, like he had an old soul, heavy and magnetic.

“Just a small thing,” Steve said, “Sorry if we disturbed you.”

Bucky waved those words away. “You know your music helps me.”

“That’s right,” Tony said, remembering an older conversation with Steve, and actually feeling like a fool for not having made the connection sooner since the guy was actually covered with paint and the building was full of paintings. Steve really did mess with his head. “You’re an artist. You paint things.”

“Mainly, yeah,” Bucky said.

“I’ve seen some interesting stuff already,” He said, remembering the paintings downstairs, “Can I see some more of your work?”

Bucky pursed his lips for a moment, but eventually nodded. “Sure,” He said, “Just don’t expect Picasso’s or anything.” He walked out of the room and ascended the stairs to the third floor of the building.

“He’s really good,” Steve whispered to him.

Tony followed them and found himself in a room identical to Steve’s; large, spacious, with lots of sunlight, but instead of a piano and hundreds of books and music-sheets scattered all around, the smell of paint lingered in the air and various paintings stood against the wall.

Bucky walked to the unfinished one that stood perched on an easel. The paint wasn’t dry, so Tony assumed this was what he’d been working on before he’d come to investigate the music.

His gaze shifted towards Steve who was looking at the paintings, too. There was a good chance that he’d seen these a dozen times already, but he still looked completely captivated by them. And Tony supposed they were good. There was one that showed shady woods with a small cabin in the middle, light burning behind the little windows. There was something eerie about it. Another one showed a river, the sun playing on the surface with a beautiful, colorful sky above.

Tony looked at each painting, observing the way they were made, spotting little details that he thought were imaginative, like the snowflakes whirling down between the trees of the shady forest, but all in all, while these paintings were beautiful, they didn’t hold his attention. Not until he spotted a canvas tucked away in the corner behind another one. Tony, without asking, slid the first painting aside and revealed the larger canvas.

“That’s not–” Bucky started, but Tony silenced him with a look.

The painting revealed the back of a man, long and broad. He had golden skin kissed by sunlight and the man’s spine was painted sharply. Tony traced his finger over it. He could practically feel the man’s soft skin beneath the tip of his finger. He really could, because he _had_ felt it already. His eyes shifted towards Steve who was studying the painting in progress on the easel.

Tony looked back down at the painting. It showed the top of the man’s buttocks, just the curve. The man was looking down, hiding his face, but just those shoulders told Tony that this was, without a doubt, Steve. He glanced at Bucky who was biting down on his lip, a slight blush having crept up his cheeks.

“This is magnificent,” Tony said.

Bucky took the painting out of his hands and set it down again. “It’s nothing,” He said in a discarding tone, “Just an experiment. People weren’t interested in buying it.”

“Then clearly you’ve been trying to sell it to the wrong people,” Tony said.

Steve came to stand beside Bucky and looked down at the painting in his hand. Tony could tell he had seen it before, and the idea of Steve having posed for this … It unlocked something within Tony’s chest – what, he didn’t know and he didn’t like it either. He pushed it down, ignoring it.

“I know someone who would love to buy art like this,” He continued, focusing on Bucky again, no matter how much he wanted to never take his eyes off of Steve again, “You do commissions?”

“I do.”

“And you’re interesting in making more like these?” Wrong fucking question, Tony chastised himself.

Bucky’s gaze flitted towards Steve, but he quickly focused on Tony again – Tony who didn’t want to think too much about Steve posing for Bucky like this, naked and on display. Hell, he didn’t want to think about someone buying this painting either.

“Definitely,” Bucky said.

“I could set you up then,” He replied while Bucky handed him a business card with the name and address of the gallery he worked for, “I’ll be in touch, ‘cause you have talent.” He wanted to leave now, wanted to be with Steve and just Steve, and ravish him, break him, wreck him, and then kiss him back together. “But you’ll have to excuse me now,” He continued, his hungry eyes devouring the blonde, “I have plans with Steve over here.” He stepped up to him and slipped a hand down his ass, squeezing.

It drew a surprised sound from Steve’s lips. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so possessive of the man, why he felt like marking his territory, because Steve was already his until Sunday ended and he was pretty sure Bucky was fully aware of that. Steve, too.

Still, it was jealousy that whirled inside his chest, hard and heavy like a rock.

“Of course,” Bucky grinned, “But keep it down, would you?”

“Can’t make any promises,” Tony said, and he meant that, more than anything. He wanted to make Steve beg and scream.

“Alright, alright,” Steve interjected, a blush having crept up his cheeks. He folded a hand around Tony’s wrist and tugged him along. “Keep working on that painting, Bucky,” He added, pointing at the painting on the easel, “It’s great.”

After a quick wave goodbye to Bucky, Tony focused all of his attention on Steve again. He practically devoured him with his eyes as he walked before him down the stairs. He wanted to see those broad shoulders of his again, like in the painting, and he wanted to feel those broad arms again. He wanted to lick down his spine and bite into the soft flesh of his ass. God, there were so many things he wanted to do to him!

Steve sat back down at the piano and patted the seat beside him. For a split second, Tony froze, unsure of what was happening, but he sank down anyway, allowing Steve to steer the moment. He’d soon rip away all control from his long, thin fingers and leave him begging and writhing and moaning.

“I’ll teach you,” Steve said which again confused Tony.

He didn’t do confusion. He always knew what he wanted and he took what he wanted. Without question. But here he sat, next to Steve, unsure of what was happening, but he was curious and he wanted to know where this would lead.

He liked the idea of bending Steve over the piano and fucking him, but maybe Steve wouldn’t like that as much.

Steve took his hand and positioned it on the keyboard. His touch was soft and gentle.

“You know Frère Jacques?”

Tony nodded.

Steve’s smile lit up his blue eyes. “It isn’t difficult to play.”

He showed him how to play it, just the first four notes, and Tony copied him. When they repeated those four notes and added the next three, Tony couldn’t help but grin like a fool, because yeah, that was Frère Jacques and he was playing it on a real instrument. He glanced sideways at Steve and found him smiling, too.

There was just something about him that pulled Tony in, all the way. He wanted to kiss him and touch him and hear him.

Steve showed him the next six notes which was a bit harder to remember and the first time he tried, he missed a note. Steve laughed, the sound warm and inviting, and when he corrected the position of Tony’s hand, Tony felt electricity spark between them. He didn’t want Steve to pull away, but he did.

When he tried the sequence of notes again, he got them right.

“You’re a natural,” Steve said.

Their gazes locked and … screw it. Knowing it was a mistake, that he would regret it, Tony cupped the back of Steve’s neck, pulled his forward, and kissed him. He didn’t know why or what he hoped to achieve with it, but he kissed him.

His eyes fluttered shut the moment Steve’s hand fisted the edge of his shirt, pulling him closer. Steve’s lips parted, and Tony eagerly explored his mouth. His fingers carded through Steve’s hair, tugging at it a little. And then it ended; their need for air too strong. Tony sucked in a deep breath, his chest heaving, and wondered what the hell he was doing.

His hand slipped away from Steve’s hair and he lowered his gaze, only for Steve cup his chin and kiss him again.

He was lost.

He didn’t know how it happened or why he even allowed it, but Steve was leading. He pulled Tony’s shirt over his head and let his hands explore every inch of his chest, his touch warm, and Tony eagerly leaned into it. Steve guided Tony up to his feet and pushed him towards the bed in the corner of the room.

A voice inside his head screamed at him to stop, to take back control, because this was dangerous, but then Steve was kissing the side of his neck, his teeth sinking into the flesh, and Tony could only think of how he wanted more.

They turned and Steve sat down on the edge of the bed. His fingers swiftly unbuttoned Tony’s trousers and pushed them down his hips, exposing his hard length curving against his thigh. Steve blinked, licked his lips, and took Tony into his mouth, the tip of tongue lapping at the head of Tony’s cock. It drew a surprised cry from his lips.

Tony tossed his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than Steve’s mouth around his girth. No, he wanted to claim him and fill him and be engulfed by him. Tony pulled out of Steve’s mouth and nudged his shoulders so he would lie down. He was a beautiful sight, something Bucky should paint someday – a thought he quickly discarded. He didn’t want Bucky to see Steve like this, with red, swollen lips, his eyes wide and pupils dilated, drowning out the blue, his hair a mess. Tony wanted to be the only to witness this.

Leaning down, his hands on either side of Steve’s head, he claimed his lips again, kissing him hard and rough. A hand trailed down Steve’s chest and once it reached the edge of his jeans, he fervently unzipped them. Steve was hard and he moaned when Tony curled his fingers around him and stroked him.

“I want you,” Steve breathed. His hips thrust up into Tony’s hand.

Tony’s knees sank into the mattress on each side of Steve’s thighs. His heart was racing in his chest and his hands trembled with excitement and want. After getting rid of Steve’s shirt, revealing that perfectly tanned skin of his, Tony bowed forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

“Ah, Master,” Steve entire body arched off of the bed.

Tony was willing to go far to hear that again. He kissed a path down Steve’s chest and abdomen, and when he reached the soft hairs of Steve’s groin, he nuzzled them. Those damn jeans were in the way. He stepped back, undressed himself first, and then pulled off the remainder of Steve’s clothes. Steve lay completely naked on the bed then, his legs spread and his cock leaking against his stomach. He was beautiful.

“Let me feel you, pet,” Tony said. He positioned himself between Steve’s legs and after sucking his fingers into his own mouth, he lowered them and pressed against Steve’s hole.

Steve already pushed down.

“You’re still loose from yesterday,” Tony moaned, because fuck, he could just shove three fingers up that ass – and he did. Steve cried out, his lips forming a perfect ‘o’, and Tony silenced him by kissing him again. Tony let Steve pull him deeper into the kiss as he fucked his ass with his fingers, preparing him for something bigger.

Steve wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders and held on tightly. “Do it,” He whispered against the side of his neck, “Please, Master, fill me.”

At this point, he would do anything Steve asked of him.

He sat up and glanced around. “Fuck, I need lube,” He said.

“There,” Steve replied. He pointed at the drawer of the nightstand, something that seemed to cost him a lot of trouble, so Tony scooted over Steve and pulled open the drawer. His groin happened to hoover over Steve’s face and when he felt Steve’s warm and wet mouth around his girth, Tony sucked in a sharp breath and nearly collapsed on top of him. He didn’t move.

“You greedy slave,” He chastised.

Steve moaned around his cock. His hands gripped Tony’s hips tightly, steadying him, and he swallowed down Tony’s length, inch by inch, until the head bumped against the back of his throat. Tony pushed his dick even deeper, reveling at the way Steve choked around it, but then he remembered that this wasn’t what he wanted.

He pulled himself together and moved back down, hating the loss of Steve’s tongue licking and lavishing his cock with attention, but the idea of being inside of him, filling him and claiming him, was stronger. He poured a generous amount of lube in his hand and rubbed it all over himself.

Steve watched with hungry eyes, his legs still spread, presenting his ass like the good little pet that he was.

With trembling limbs, Tony guided the tip of his cock to Steve’s hole and once he was sure he was loose enough, he pushed in with one smooth movement. Again, Steve arched off of the bed. Tony kissed his chest.

“Is this what you want?” He asked huskily as he rolled his hips, his cock moving along Steve’s walls.

Steve could only nod. His eyes closed and he threw an arm over his face.

“No, no,” Tony said. He grabbed Steve’s wrists and pinned them down above his head. Steve stared at him with wide, desperate eyes. He brushed his lips against Steve’s jaw. “You’re such a beautiful pet,” He murmured to him, “So fucking gorgeous.”

He pulled out a little and pushed back in. Steve whimpered and folded his legs around Tony’s hips. Tony let go of Steve’s wrists and let a hand wander down Steve’s side, caressing him, reveling at the feeling of taut muscles beneath his skin. He buried his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and inhaled. He let Steve engulf him, like he’d wanted to – his perfume, the touch of his skin, the warmth of his body.

“Master,” Steve whined.

Tony continued to fuck him, nice and slowly, driving him closer and closer to the edge. He wrapped a hand around Steve’s cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts. Steve produced the smallest, softest of sounds. He pressed his body against Tony’s and fisted his hands in his hair.

Steve came with a strangled sound, his whole body vibrating and quivering, and his cock twitched against his stomach.

“That’s it, pet,” Tony whispered against his throat, “I’ve got you.”

He thrust deep into Steve’s ass, fucking him through the orgasm, feeling his ass clench around his dick, and Tony knew he was just about lost himself. Steve’s hand slipped down his back, nails scratching his skin, and Tony came inside of him, filling him.

Steve moaned at the feeling. “I’ve got you, too, Master,” He said.

And Tony was done. He thrust into Steve one final time and stopped, his entire body locked in place as his cock gave everything it had to give. Pleasure coursed through his veins and his muscles were unable to hold him up. He collapsed on top of Steve and didn’t move.

With his face still buried in the crook of his neck, Tony focused on his breathing. In and out. In and out.

Finally, he regained control of his body. He pulled his flaccid cock out of Steve and rolled aside, onto his back. Steve curled up beside him and laid his head on Tony’s shoulder. He traced patterns onto Tony’s stomach, following the rhythm of Tony’s beating heart, and Tony decided to focus on that.

They didn’t speak. There was nothing to say, just the opportunity to bask in the afterglow of sex.

Only, Tony’s mind ran wild with thoughts. He didn’t understand what just happened. He hadn’t forced Steve to submit, hadn’t been desperate to hear him beg. He’d given him what he wanted and he’d taken what he wanted. He’d kissed him, over and over, wishing Steve was his, entirely.

When he looked down, he realized he wanted to kiss him again. Somewhere he’d been aware that he’d been treading dangerous territories, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. And now he was screwed.

Minutes passed in silence and eventually, Steve’s fingers stopped tracing patterns. He’d fallen asleep, his lips slightly parted and his eyes moving gently behind his eyelids as he dreamed. Tony had to fight the urge to trace the peaceful lines of his face.

It was getting out of hand.

He couldn’t control himself anymore.

Steve had too much power over him.

Carefully, as not to wake him, Tony slipped away from the warmth of Steve’s body and stood. He placed a blanket over Steve’s naked body and got dressed. The man stirred, tensing for a second, but then he drifted back into a deeper sleep, the last few days having exhausted him.

Tony watched him for a moment and then turned away. He moved down the stairs, refusing to look back, refusing to doubt his decision, because doubt would be his undoing.

He needed to do this.

“Are you ditching him?”

Tony spun around to find Bucky leaning against the kitchen counter, a large cup of coffee in his hands. He looked so very casual, one ankle crossed over the other, but his dark brown eyes were scrutinizing him, pinning him down. Tony swallowed heavily and steadied himself. No doubt.

“Tell him that I’m sorry,” He said, “I can’t fulfil the contract. I’ll have someone bring his stuff over.”

Bucky scoffed. “It’s that easy for you?” He asked sharply. “You get tired of him so you sneak out.”

“That’s not–” He stopped himself, because none of it was part of Bucky’s business. He understood, sure, because Bucky was Steve’s best friend, maybe even more than that considering the painting, which was a thought that angered him, made jealousy flare up in his chest again, and that was exactly why he was pulling out. “Take care of him.”

“Asshole,” Bucky spat at him.

And yeah, Tony figured he was just that, but he didn’t respond. He walked out of the building.

He didn’t look back and he didn’t even glance in his rearview mirror as he drove down the street.

-x-x-x-

He didn’t know what woke him. Steve shifted underneath the bedsheets and stretched his arms out above him, his muscles sore. Memories of his dream faded, until there was nothing left. Steve tried to hold onto the dream, remembering that it had soothed him, that it had been pleasant, until a soft scratching sound reached his ears, distracting him.

Steve blinked his eyes open and looked sideways. The bed was empty next to him, but he wasn’t alone. Bucky sat perched on the piano bench, having pulled it away from the piano and closer to the bed. A sketchpad rested in his lap and he was focused entirely on his creation.

“You better not be drawing me,” Steve muttered as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His stomach and thighs were sticky. He needed a shower.

“Sorry,” Was all Bucky said as he turned the sketchpad over and showed Steve a drawing of him stretched out on the bed, nothing but a thin sheet covering all essential parts. His arms were above him, his fingers curled around the metal of the bedframe. His knees were spread and sunlight highlighted the strong muscles of his thighs. Beneath the thin bedsheet the curve of his body was still visible.

“Practice,” Bucky said with half a shrug.

Steve hummed. “Where’s Tony?”

Bucky turned strangely quiet and looked down at the sketch with a thoughtful look on his face. “He left,” He said after a short silence. Steve let the words sink in, not understanding them. “He’s an ass, Steve. He doesn’t appreciate you, so maybe’s it’s a good thing that he’s gone.”

“But–” Whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t. He pressed his lips together and tried to comprehend the information he just learned. Tony left. It was only Thursday evening, and he’d already left. Had he done something wrong? Had he disappointed him?

He lowered his head and closed his eyes, hoping to still the thoughts in his mind.

“Hey, I’ll have none of that,” Bucky said curtly, waving a finger at him, “Tony’s an idiot if he doesn’t appreciate you.”

Steve glanced up and arched one eyebrow.

“I mean it,” Bucky added stubbornly, “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Sighing, Steve wrapped the sheets of the bed tightly around his body and stood. He really needed a shower now. “Who does deserve me then?” He asked – not that he wanted an answer to that question. And he sure as hell refused to think about Peggy or anyone else he dated since. He moved to the piano bench and sat down next to Bucky. Their shoulders brushed together. “Show me again.”

Bucky handed his sketchpad over.

“This something you want to pursue?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky let out a heavy breath, “Tony’s a dick, but what he said got me thinking. That painting of you, upstairs, it’s one of my favorites. I loved making it and I love drawing these. And I’m not just talking about you here, I’m talking generally speaking. They’re … alive and sensual.”

“They’re art,” Steve smiled. He gave Bucky the sketchpad back and ran a hand through his short blond hair, smoothing it back. He stared at the empty bed before them. “So he just left? He didn’t say anything? At all?”

What had happened between them, the way they had touched each other, had kissed each other, Steve had felt it more deeply than anything he’d ever felt before. But apparently none of it meant anything to Tony. It stung.

“Sorry, Steve.”

“Yeah,” He sighed.

He stood and headed into the small bathroom, ignoring Bucky’s concerned gaze. Once the door closed behind him, he leaned back against the wood and closed his eyes. He clung onto the bedsheet more tightly. He stood there, Tony’s touch still ghosting over his skin, and Steve let his head fall back against the door.

He focused on the darkness momentarily surrounding him, hoping it would calm him. It didn’t. Because Tony had left.


	7. The Aftermath

Everything was quiet. Cars honked all around him and people were chatting and laughing and shouting, but everything felt quiet to Tony, drowned out. With his hands buried deep into the pockets of his jacket and his eyes on the ground, he headed into the building and got into the elevator. He wasn’t thinking, he refused to, and just rode up to top floor. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the picture of Steve lying in bed, curled naked on top of linen bedsheets, out of his head.

When he entered the penthouse, there was real silence. The thick walls and double windows blocked out the city noises. Tony inhaled deeply and steadied himself. This was how it was supposed to be; silence in his otherwise empty penthouse. After shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it aside, uncaring of where it landed.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

A drink would be welcome, so Tony walked up to the bar and filled a glass with the best whiskey he owned. He downed it in one go, feeling it burn his throat. He reveled at the feeling and closed his eyes for a moment, only to feel Steve’s touch on his body again, to feel his hands wander down his sides and gripping his naked hips. Tony forced those thoughts away. It was done. And he needed to let Natasha know about it.

Great. What would she think of him?

On the other hand, he didn’t really care.

After dropping down on the couch, he fished his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. Maybe he could wait for a little while longer, because as much as he hated to admit it, Natasha Romanov scared the crap out of him, but it was better if he was the first to call her. Since he was breaking the contract, he’d have to own up to it. There were consequences he had to discuss with her.

He dialed the number and waited, refusing to feel nervous about it.

“Mr. Stark,” Came Natasha’s purring voice, “I didn’t expect your call. How can I be of service?”

He licked his lips and thought of the best way to break the news. Then again, there was no need for subtleties. They were in this business together and, if it were up to Tony, he’d love to stay in this business for a little while longer. Straightforwardness was the best way to go.

“I’m ending the contract,” He said, knowing he sounded kinda blunt.

There was a short silence during which Tony could practically hear Natasha’s thoughts twist and turn on the other side of the line. “And why, if I may ask?” She asked, confusion lacing her voice, “I thought there was a click. Or were there … issues?”

“No, no issues,” Tony replied with a sigh. He let his head fall back, letting it rest on the edge of the couch as he stared up at the white ceiling. “And I definitely don’t have any complaints about Stev– Mr. Rogers. There are personal reasons for my decision. That’s all.”

He paused and wondered if Steve had already called her, if perhaps she knew everything already, but then … What was there to know? Tony cursed himself. He needed to get his shit together.

“Listen, I know the consequences of breaking the contract.”

“Good,” Natasha said, “Because you aren’t going to give my business a bad name. Do you know how many have broken a contract before?”

Tony groaned audibly. “Not many?”

“Not many, jackass.” There was no heat in her words.

A small smile curved the edges of his lips upward. “I wouldn’t dare give the D&s Company a bad name, sweetheart, you know how dear it is to me.”

“ _Sweetheart?_ And I’m gonna add ten percent just for that,” Natasha replied.

Tony laughed and nodded, knowing fully well Natasha couldn’t actually see him. He felt better now. The contract would end and if he wanted to, he could pretend it never existed in the first place. That would certainly make his life easier. And he needed his life to become easy again. He didn’t do complicated or confused.

“Come and pick up the check and Mr. Roger’s stuff tomorrow,” He said, and with that, he ended the call.

-x-x-x-

He scribbled a few notes onto the paper and played them on the piano.

It sucked. There just wasn’t any other way to describe it. Sighing in frustration, Steve scratched out the notes and added different ones. He wanted to create a new tune, a darker one, something that actually reflected his frustrations, but everything he created sounded wrong and uninspired.

He’d been at the piano since six o’clock this morning and now, almost seven hours later, he still hadn’t made anything worth pursuing. With a surge of anger, Steve grabbed the papers from the music rack and tore them into little pieces. He just needed to start over, needed to let go of whatever he’d already thought of today and come up with brand new ideas. Simple.

Closing his eyes, Steve focused on his breathing and hoped to produce a tune from the silence of his mind.

There was nothing.

Groaning, he let his head drop down onto the keyboard, the sound it created loud and false and painful to his ears. Hell _that_ portrayed his frustrations the best. It reflected the mess in his head; loud, incomprehensible and unwanted.

Footsteps sounded behind him, but Steve didn’t bother picking up his head, not even when he heard Bucky approach, not even when he came to sit down beside him, their shoulders brushing together. He’d probably been driving him mad with his horrendous music these past few hours. Great, now he felt guilty, too.

Glancing up, he found Bucky staring at him with a thoughtful look in his dark brown eyes.

“Sorry,” He muttered.

“Having trouble, huh?” Bucky asked even though the answer to that question was obvious. He folded an arm around Steve’s shoulders and let his hand rest on the side of Steve’s arm. He squeezed it gently. “You know,” He added, sounding thoughtful, “It’s all in your head.”

Steve straightened his back and frowned. Whatever he had expected from Bucky, it hadn’t been that. “Are you calling me crazy?” He asked, not really knowing what Bucky was aiming for. “Because I might agree with that, but I’m not sure I like _you_ saying it out loud.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “You’re not crazy, Steve,” He said. He let his arm fall away from Steve’s shoulders. Looking down, his fingers glided over the keyboard without producing a sound. “I’m just saying that you always had trouble letting go.”

Steve’s gaze lowered at that, because yeah, he knew what Bucky was talking about now.

“You don’t need a Master or a Mistress to force you into submission–”

“Bucky,” Steve said. This wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. And he really didn’t want to talk about Tony, because somewhere down the line, he would be brought up. He was sure of it. But the guy had left three days ago and that was that. Steve refused to admit that he felt messed up by it. A man he had known for just a few days couldn’t possibly have such a strong impact on him, so whatever it was that he was going through, it was entirely unrelated.

“No, hear me out, Steve; this is Peggy all over again.” Bucky continued stubbornly, and really Steve didn’t want to tread that territory again either, “When you were with her, you wrote some of your best pieces and then you broke up and you crashed. Remember? You didn’t write a single thing for months, you were a mess. I remember. I tried picking up your pieces and putting them back together. And then we went to that club.”

Steve’s ears burned. The memory of that evening caused his stomach to twist and turn, mostly with excitement. It had been nothing like the D&s Club, but it had been equally thrilling and dangerous. Hundreds of men and women had been dancing half naked to uplifting music, sweat covering their skin. People had been making out in dark corners. He’d met a guy there, big and strong, who had dominated the shit out of him and the next morning, he’d written a piece called ‘Freedom’. It was one of Bucky’s favorites.

“You think you need someone who forces you to let go,” Bucky said, “But you don’t. You don’t need anyone, Steve, not when it comes to this.” The first notes of ‘Freedom’ echoed through the room, Bucky’s fingers pressing all the right keys.

Steve couldn’t help but smile. He’d taught Bucky to play the easy parts and he still remembered even after all these months. He remained silent for a little while, listening to Bucky play the song, listening to the softness and the introversion. He listened to the low notes joining the lighter ones, like an oncoming storm, and then it ended, Bucky not knowing the rest anymore.

“Thanks, Bucky,” He said, sincerity ringing in his voice.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you wallow because an asshole dumped you.”

At that, Steve’s eyes widened. “I’m not wallowing,” He said sharply, “And I wasn’t dumped. We weren’t …”

Bucky turned to him, only skepticism in his gaze. He even went as far as shooting him an are-you-kidding-me-look. “You’re wallowing,” He repeated, “Did you even get any sleep last night?”

Steve pressed his lips together. He wished he could come up with an excuse as to why he never went to bed. He wished he could say he’d been inspired to write music, but instead he’d been on the couch all night, staring up at the ceiling while wondering if he should just give up the chase of a music-career. What was the point if he couldn’t write anything anyway? But Bucky was right. He hadn’t been able to write anything after Peggy had left and now Tony was gone and it was happening all over again.

“That’s what I thought,” Bucky sighed, “You need to forget about him, Steve. You had a few amazing days with him and then he left. I understand that you miss him or that you miss the fun times,” Steve begged him to shut up now, but Bucky continued, “But if he’s dragging you down, then it’s time for you to shove him out of your head.”

He had a point. Steve just wished it was as easy as that.

Bucky rose and dragged Steve up to his feet as well even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave the piano. Maybe he could produce something now after Bucky’s pep-talk, because it had helped. Honestly, Bucky was right, Steve knew that, and he refused to let people drag him down anymore. He refused to let Tony be the reason–

The bell rang.

Bucky and he exchanged confused glances, neither of them expecting anyone, before Steve headed downstairs, Bucky trailing after him.

He should have expected Mrs. Romanov to show up at his place at some point. When Steve opened the door, she smiled politely, and Steve couldn’t help but take her in; her high heels, the bright red dress that hugged her frame, the pearl necklace, her dark red lips and her flaming hair which was pinned up. She carried Steve’s duffle bag and a smaller briefcase.

“Uhm,” He started, still taken off guard and not having a clue what he was supposed to do. She was bringing him his clothes, that much was obvious, which meant that she had talked to Tony. Maybe she knew why he’d left so suddenly. Maybe she could enlighten him.

“Hi, Mr. Rogers,” Natasha said, still smiling, “Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure,” Steve stuttered, quickly stepping aside and letting her in. He took the duffle bag from her and set it aside, not bothering to check if everything was in it.

Bucky was kind and smart enough to grant them privacy.

Steve guided Natasha towards the couch and offered her a drink, but she refused with a wave of her hand. “I won’t stay long,” She said with a silky voice, “I’m here to end the contract and to tie up some loose ends.” She grabbed some papers from the briefcase and held them out for Steve to take – which he did. “Mr. Stark has personal reasons for ending the contract so suddenly and on behalf of the D&s Company I would like to apologize for the inconvenience.”

Apologize for the inconvenience? Steve, having taken a seat beside Natasha, looked up from the papers with dismay in his eyes. “What have I done wrong?” He demanded to know. He was surprised to hear his own voice so uptight.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Natasha replied, “Mr. Stark only stated personal reasons. Since he is the one who broke the contract he’s also accountable for the expenses. You don’t have to pay anything. And as a formal apology I’d like to offer you a discount of twenty five percent next time you choose to use the services of the D&s Fitting Program.”

Steve long stopped listening to her. He didn’t like this, didn’t like not knowing why Tony snuck out on Thursday without any explanation.

“And Mr. Stark also chose to offer you a compensation for the lost time,” Natasha continued. She held out a small, white envelope.

Hesitantly, Steve took it from her and opened it. It held a check of ten thousand dollars. His heart skipped a beat and a shiver ran down his back. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin suddenly, as if it were too tight, like he would burst from it.

“I don’t want this,” He said, disgusted, “I wasn’t his whore.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t his intention,” Natasha said.

He handed her the envelope back. “I don’t care,” He said tightly, “I’d much rather know his reason for breaking the contract, and screw ‘personal reasons’. Did I do something wrong? Wasn’t I a good sub?”

“Mr. Rogers,” Natasha started softly. She folded her hands in her lap and sighed. “I’m afraid my business doesn’t work like that. We protect every client’s privacy and their right to end engagements.”

He knew that. It was one of the reasons why he decided to go through with this whole thing after Bucky called Natasha. He thought for sure he’d be the one to pull out eventually, that he wouldn’t have been able to handle it, but in the end, after having met Tony, he hadn’t once thought of breaking the contract. He’d never thought of the possibility of the other party pulling out.

“I know,” He sighed dejectedly. He pressed himself into the cushions of the couch and stared at his hands lying awkwardly in his lap. “Thanks for dropping my stuff off.”

“You’re very welcome,” Natasha rose to her feet, her briefcase in hand, “I do hope you’ll continue to use our services.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” He replied, because honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through something like this again.

He shook Natasha’s hand and walked her to the front door where they said goodbye. Once she was gone, Steve closed the door and rested his forehead against the wood, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into. It should be done now, he should forget about this whole affair, and yet he still felt as messed up as he did when Tony had only just left.

-x-x-x-

Bucky set his empty bowl down into the sink and turned to Steve, a mischievous look in his eyes, one Steve wasn’t sure he liked. “Alright,” He said, his dark brown eyes focused entirely on his best friend, “It’s Friday evening and for once I refuse to stay home.”

Steve arched one eyebrow and put another spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

“You’re coming with me,” Bucky clarified.

He nearly choked. Steve set down his bowl and knocked a fist against his chest. “What?” He asked when he figured he wasn’t actually choking anymore. He stared incredulously at him. “I don’t want to go out, Bucky, I–”

“It’s been two weeks,” Bucky interjected, “And you haven’t left this place.”

“I’ve gone grocery shopping,” Steve argued, “And I went to the gallery with you just yesterday.”

“Sure, but those don’t count,” Bucky replied with a cunning smile on his face, “But now I want to go out, have a drink, talk to people, and I’m dragging you with me. And since you’re my best friend, I’m allowed to do so and you have no other choice but to come with me.”

Steve groaned. “Really, Bucky, I’m not in the mood–”

“Come on!” Bucky dropped back down on the chair opposite of Steve, the table separating them, and pouted. He actually pouted and the jackass knew Steve could never resist him then. “It’s been ages since you and I went to a bar and had a drink and hit on people and generally had a good time. It’s going to be fun!”

He stared sharply at him. “You’re not going to try and set me up with everyone who smiles at me?” Because if he had to list Bucky’s hobbies, that would definitely be in the top five. Bucky loved introducing him to strangers in the hopes of setting him up with a new boy- or girlfriend. Never mind what Steve wanted.

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky said, “So that’s a yes?”

It _had_ been two weeks since Tony left. And really, Steve didn’t think much about him anymore. So yeah, maybe going out was a good idea. And he always had fun with Bucky. “Alright,” He said, nodding, “But I swear I’m leaving if you even think about setting me up.”

“Deal,” Bucky grinned.

-x-x-x-

The bar Bucky chose wasn’t too crowded for which Steve felt infinitely grateful for. He wasn’t a big fan of crowded places. In all honestly, there was only one such place he’d felt at ease at; the D&s Club, but that was a thought he quickly discarded, because it made him think of Tony and he didn’t want to think of Tony and – too late.

Steve ordered a cocktail and hoped they would serve it soon. He could use a bit of alcohol in his system.

“Okay, I’m not trying to set you up here,” Bucky started, “But check out the girl by the window.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his curiosity got the better of him and he glanced over his shoulder. The girl was indeed pretty, but she didn’t hold his attention for very long. How could she when his mind was chanting one name over and over again? Steve focused on Bucky again and crossed his arms on the surface of the cocktail table.

“She’s okay,” He said with a shrug. It earned him a disapproving look, Bucky fully aware of what he was thinking about – or better _who_ he was thinking of. “Let’s talk about you for a while. I’ve been an asshole of a friend lately.” He’d been focused on his music and on a certain _someone_ , but he no longer allowed himself to actually think the name.

Bucky waved his words away. “You know there’s nothing I can’t forgive you for,” He smiled, “You being out with me is just what we needed. A couple of friends sharing a drink and having fun. We’re having fun, aren’t we?”

Steve laughed. “Yes,” He said, “We’re having fun. So what’s going on with Eve? Are you two still dating?”

“No,” Bucky answered, “That ended five weeks ago.”

“Oh.” He really had been a sucky friend and he couldn’t even blame … him. Damn, it was hard not to think his name!

“I met a guy,” Bucky said.

Steve’s eyes widened. How could he have missed this? More guilt whirled around in his chest. Bucky glanced up at him from underneath his eyelashes. He seemed hesitant, careful even, and Steve hadn’t a clue why. If anything, he was excited for him.

“His name is Phil. He works for the government. He’s a few years older than me. I would have introduced him to you already, but you’ve been … preoccupied. And we’ve only been going out for a month.”

Steve groaned loudly and let his head drop down onto his crossed arms. A young waitress finally brought them their drinks, but not even then did he glance up. He wasn’t sure he could meet Bucky’s gaze again. Sure, Bucky didn’t blame him, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been absolutely horrible lately. He’d have to make it up to him.

“You must bring him home and introduce us,” He said after he finally picked up his head, “I’ll cook dinner.”

“It’s fine, Steve, honestly,” Bucky said.

“No, it’s not and I–”

“Uhm, Steve?” Bucky leaned a little closer, startling Steve who couldn’t help but lean forward, too. “Would you believe me when I say that this isn’t a set-up? That I didn’t know he’d be here?”

“What?” Steve straightened his back and glanced over his shoulder. A small group of men had entered the bar; all dressed to the nines with giant smiles on their faces, but there was only one who drew Steve’s attention and only one who held it. Sam Wilson looked as handsome as ever wearing black denim jeans and a dark blue leather jacket. He hadn’t spotted Steve yet. He was laughing at something a friend said, his entire body vibrating with it, and then his gaze fell on him.

Steve’s head snapped forward again, unable to lock gazes with Sam. Bucky was staring at him with wide eyes, waiting to see what would happen, but frankly, Steve didn’t want to know what would happen. How long had it been since he’d last seen Sam? A few months? A year? Was there a time-limit when things stopped being awkward?

“Hi, there,” A new voice said.

Steve swallowed heavily and looked to his left to find Sam Wilson standing next to him. He looked exactly as Steve remembered him to be; tall, lean but muscular, dark, smooth skin and dark eyes that instantly connected with his. He smelled exactly like he remembered, too; a mixture of paper and ink.

“Hi, Sam,” He forced out, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Sam replied.

Bucky, the asshole, pulled another chair up to the small table. “Come and sit with us for a while,” He said as he ignored Steve’s glare – Steve who was starting to doubt that this wasn’t a set-up. It certainly _smelled_ like a set-up. “What a coincidence to bump into you here.”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled, but his attention instantly shifted back to Steve, “You look great, Steve.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed red. “Uhm, thanks.”

“I’m going to get you a drink,” Bucky said. He jumped off of his seat. “Don’t move.” And then he was gone.

Steve cursed him.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Sam said.

“No, ‘course not,” Steve said. He curled his fingers around his cocktail-glass and took a sip from it, just to have something to do. It felt strange to be near Sam again, memories rushing back to him. And they actually distracted him from Tony, which was a nice change.

“I thought maybe you and Bucky were out together,” Sam said, “I just wanted to say hi. It’s been so long.”

“Bucky and I are out,” Then he finally got it and he felt like an idiot, “But not _out_ -out.”

“I see,” Sam said with that familiar casual smile of his, the one that had always warmed something inside of Steve, “I just figured you and him would eventually get together.” He unzipped his jacket to reveal a tight fitting grey shirt that left nothing to one’s imagination.

Steve couldn’t help but let his eyes rake down his chest, all the while wondering if there was any purpose to it. Was Sam flirting with him? It had been a while since he’d engaged in some flirting. Did he even want to flirt? _God_ , Steve felt thoroughly confused.

“Did Bucky call you?” He blurted out.

Sam chuckled softly. “Should he have?”

“No, no,” Steve replied, his thoughts still running wild. He took another sip from his drink. “It’s really good to see you again, Sam.”

He vaguely wondered where Bucky was with that drink he’d promised Sam, but Steve couldn’t look away from his ex-lover. He looked amazing and compelling and when he smiled, Steve felt something familiar twist in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even remember why they had broken up all those months ago. His thoughts were a chaotic mess.

“So what’s going on with you?” He asked.

They talked about work for a while, Sam telling him about the latest book he was working on; a thriller about a murder that happened at a dance club. Steve listened, enraptured, as Sam explained the plot and detailed the plot-twists. They talked about Steve’s music for a while, too, and then briefly about Bucky who still hadn’t returned with that drink.

One quick look around the bar showed Bucky over at Sam’s little group of friends, laughing and making jokes. It seemed like they’d known each other for years already. Steve couldn’t help but glare at him a little, because slowly everything was starting to make sense.

“He did call me,” Sam said out of nowhere.

“I knew it,” He said. He wasn’t even shocked or angry.

“He’s worried about you,” Sam explained. With his thumb, he rimmed the edge of the cocktail glass, the cocktail the waitress had brought for Bucky, but that had never actually been touched by him so Sam had starting drinking it. Otherwise it would have been an eight-dollar-waste. “And I wanted to help out so here I am.”

Steve studied him skeptically. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

“I wasn’t actually sure I wanted to come,” Sam sighed, his shoulders dropping a bit, “I mean, you and I have a history together, a short one, but a history nonetheless. But the idea of seeing you again, of being able to talk to you again, it persuaded me.”

Steve inhaled sharply, held his breath for three long seconds, and then exhaled. “You shouldn’t have come,” He settled on, “Last time ended rather–”

“That’s entirely on me,” Sam interjected. His dark eyes stared into Steve’s bright blue ones. “I shouldn’t have left, but I did, and I regret that. When Bucky called, I thought there might be another chance.”

Steve pressed his lips tightly together, not knowing what he should say.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” Sam offered, “Just dinner. We can see where it leads, if there’s still something here.”

“Did Bucky ask you to do that, too?”

“No,” Sam said curtly, and Steve believed him, “This is all me.”

He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t, not when his head was such a mess and his life felt like it was slowly unravelling, starting with his music. And yet he found himself nodding, because this was Sam and he liked Sam. He’d loved Sam, and maybe, just maybe, he could love him again. So why not grab that chance? Did he not deserve that chance?

“Okay,” He said, “I’ll go on a date with you.”

-x-x-x-

He didn’t hear them come in. Tony had been staring at the three blackboards full of numbers and letters and equations and nonsensical stuff he needed to erase. He was trapped in his mind, unable to get out, not until he could write down all the ideas keeping him awake at night. But even while he was working on the new weapon’s design, he was still caught in his own head.

That was the reason why he shrieked and jumped ten feet in the air when Loki placed a hand to his shoulder.

“Wow there,” Loki said with faint amusement in his eyes, “We called your name three times.”

Tony let his gaze switch between Loki and Thor. Loki crossed his arms before his chest and studied the blackboards for a moment while Thor simply let his gaze wander about. Thor didn’t often come down to the labs of Stark Industries and, right now, he looked a little lost.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asked.

Loki turned to his best friend. “You’ve been holed up in this basement for nearly two weeks,” He said, a disapproving look on his face, “It’s time for you to get out of here, get some fresh air and relax a bit, so Thor and I are here to drag you along with us.”

“Oh,” Tony sighed and ran a hand through his short brown hair, “That’s very nice, but I’m kinda busy. There are ideas in my head, Loki, and I need to get them out.”

“You got the kinematic equation wrong,” Loki pointed out.

Tony’s gaze snapped towards the blackboard and, oh yes, he did indeed get it wrong which explained why the rest of the calculations didn’t make sense. So maybe he _had_ been down here in the basement for too long, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Loki. He’d never hear the end of it! And frankly, now that the kinematic equation was fixed – he quickly erased the wrong part and wrote it down correctly – he could make this design flawless.

“You still have to celebrate our engagement with us,” Thor said. He was holding a hammer, feeling the weight in his hand and flipping it around.

“Please put that down,” Tony said.

“Only if you come with us,” Loki argued.

“And go where?”

“Out,” Thor explained with a dirty grin on his face. He put the hammer down onto one of the many tables full of building equipment and moved to stand beside Loki. He wrapped an arm around his narrow waist and pulled him closer. “Let’s go have some fun, Tony, you do remember fun right?”

Tony pursed his lips for a moment, considering the offer, but who was he kidding? He got the stupid kinematic equation wrong! He needed to get out of here and distract himself. “Alright,” He said, “Give me thirty minutes to get ready.”

“I’ll give you an hour,” Loki said, “Because you gotta shower and put on some fresh clothes.”

Ninety minutes later they arrived at the D&s Club. Loki’s fingers were intertwined with Thor’s and Tony could practically feel the energy buzzing around them. It made him feel excited. It had been months since he visited this place with them and he wondered why he hadn’t proposed this earlier. All the times they came here together had led to magnificent nights.

Darcy greeted them happily, looking at them over the edge of her big, round glasses.

“Good evening, darling,” Loki smiled, “I’ll have a red collar for my slave.”

Thor lifted his chin and looked proud as Loki secured the collar around his neck. His usually bright blue eyes now stood dark, the pupils dilated with lust and wanton, which reminded Tony of Steve – he quickly forced that thought out of his head. He was here to have a good time with his friends, to celebrate their engagement, and he wasn’t going to screw that up.

Thor stripped out of his clothes, leaving him naked save for the collar and the golden chain around his hips. Tony had to fight the urge to reach out and touch it again. Fuck, just the sight of it had his cock stir in his jeans. There was no denying that Thor was a handsome guy after all. His tanned skin simply begged to be touched and abused.

Loki was one hell of a lucky guy and, for a brief second, Tony wondered what it would be like if someone wore a golden chain for him. He wondered how Steve would look – _no_.

Loki circled around Thor, inspecting him, and let the tips of his fingers trace along the bare skin of his stomach and lower back. Thor visibly shuddered and leaned into his Master’s touch. His dark blue eyes fell on Tony, Tony who couldn’t bring himself to move even though Thor was silently begging him to touch him.

“Oh, the night it’s gonna be,” Loki murmured wistfully.

Only Tony had to be an asshole and ruin it, because he couldn’t do this. Being here again, without him, it felt strangely … wrong. Something hard and cold curled around his chest, making it nearly impossible to breath. “I gotta go,” He said. His friends’ eyes instantly snapped towards him, surprised and confused. “Sorry,” He took a step back and swallowed heavily, “I just got a shit-ton of work waiting at the company and–”

“Bullshit,” Loki said.

He froze. “What?”

“I’m calling you out on your bullshit,” Loki said. He took a step closer to Tony, but then stopped, and Tony understood that he didn’t want to stray too far from Thor. It was an endearing gesture, only it was ruined by the heat in Loki’s eyes. “I really thought this was about your work, about the government contract, but I see now that it isn’t. This is about Steve.”

“What? No!” Tony balled his hands into fists and let his chest fill with anger. It was one thing to admit it to himself, but another thing entirely to admit it to Loki. “This has nothing to do–”

“I knew you liked him,” Loki said. He deflated, the heat vanishing from his gaze and he took a careful step forward. He poked a finger against Tony’s shoulder. “I could tell when you were watching him play the piano at our place, so why on God’s green earth did you pull out?”

“You know why,” Tony bit out all of a sudden. That silenced Loki, but Tony didn’t like the sorrowful look in his emerald green eyes either. He didn’t know what he preferred; an angry friend or one who pitied him. In any case, he was done for today. “I’m leaving now. I’m sorry if I ruined your evening.”

He didn’t wait to see if Loki wanted to reply something, didn’t wait for Thor’s input. He just turned around and headed back outside, knowing they wouldn’t follow him. How could they? Thor was already naked.

The cold evening air helped him clear his mind and chased away all unwanted thoughts, but one name remained. He tried to ignore it. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, he walked on and kept his eyes down. He didn’t know how long he wandered through the streets of New York City. He only knew that he was alone and that he liked it that way.


	8. The Gallery

He glanced over the piano at him. Sam lay on the bed, propped up on his elbows with a thick notebook before him. He was scribbling down words and it seemed like something important, because Sam’s eyes were slightly narrowed and the tip of his tongue was sticking out a little. It was an adorable sight.

Steve continued to let his fingers glide over the keyboard of the piano, a soft tune drifting through the air. Lately, he’d been feeling good. He hadn’t expected that, but it had happened anyway. Writing music was going well and after his first date with Sam, they had easily fallen back into their old patterns. It had scared him at first and it had been difficult to move on and away from Tony, but he was glad he had done so now. And he _had_ moved on. He refused to give Tony any more thought. What they had shared had been brief and intense, but it was for the best that it had ended.

“What’ya doing?” He asked Sam after fifteen minutes of utter silence. Sam hadn’t moved yet – not that Steve was objecting. He quite liked watching those broad shoulders and seeing the long curve of his back underneath the dark blue shirt. And the dark jeans he wore were a blessing to his ass. Steve was actually regretting disturbing him now. He should have gotten up and moved to him. “You’re very quiet.”

Sam hummed and looked up for the first time in an hour. “Sorry, inspiration hit me,” He said.

“Oh?” Steve continued to play the song, but his eyes were fixed on Sam now. He watched as the man sat up and pulled the notebook into his lap, his fingers leafing through the pages. “Would you like to share?”

A smile curved the edges of Sam’s lips upward. “You inspired it,” He confessed.

Steve stopped playing and sat back a little. He couldn’t focus on the piano anymore, not as Sam looked at him the way he did – with wide eyes like he was the center of his universe. “I did?”

Sam rose from the bed and padded towards him on his bare feet. He sat down beside him on the piano bench and handed him the notebook. It was full of scribbles and poorly done drawings – Sam was most definitely not that kind of artist – but it looked perfect anyway. Mesmerized, Steve looked at some of the pages, taking in the short scenes and dialogue Sam had come up with. He studied a map Sam had drawn that was obviously Europe.

“It’s about a musician,” Sam started as he pointed to a collection of details about a man’s physical appearance, “He’s young and handsome and he wants to live and make music and share it with the world, but he’s looking for inspiration first, for music, so he decides to travel through Europe and talk to people. He lets them inspire him.”

“That sounds really good,” Steve hummed, his gaze still on the notebook, “Something I’d like to do if I could.”

“I know,” Sam took the notebook from him again and closed it before he turned towards Steve and carded his fingers through his short blond hair. It was a sweet gesture that had Steve instinctually leaning into it, as well as made him think of Tony who loved to – He stopped himself. Sam’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and rested there. “So why don’t you?”

The question took him off guard. “Why don’t I do what?”

“Travel and meet people?” Sam said as he laughed softly. His hand fell away from his body, but his dark eyes bore into Steve’s.

They were nothing like Tony’s – Steve again quickly discarded that thought. He wanted to focus entirely on Sam, because Sam was here. He hadn’t left while he’d been sleeping, contrary to other people – and _dammit_. Why was it so hard to _not_ think about Tony? The guy probably didn’t give him any more thought. He might already be signing a new contract with Natasha Romanov!

“Steve?”

He really had to focus on the topic of their conversation here. Sighing, Steve let his head fall sideways onto Sam’s shoulders. He intertwined his fingers with Sam’s and enjoyed the warmth of his touch. “It’s not that easy,” He said after a short silence. He stared at their intertwined hands. “I don’t have a lot of money and–”

“You don’t need a lot of money,” Sam interrupted.

Steve tilted his head back a little and glanced up at him from underneath dark lashes. He supposed money wasn’t the biggest issue here. Backpacking through America didn’t have to cost thousands of dollars. That really wasn’t the reason why he hadn’t actually packed a bag and left. There was just too much he couldn’t bear to leave behind.

“There’s this,” He explained softly as he let a hand glide across the keyboard, “I can’t stand the idea of not playing for so long. And there’s Bucky. I don’t want to leave him either.”

Could he leave Sam?

It was a thought he didn’t want to dwell on for too long, because it would lead to unwanted and unpleasant thoughts. He was with Sam now and that was all that mattered. Or was it?

“You don’t have to be scared, Steve,” Sam started, but he stopped when footsteps sounded on the staircase, indicating that Bucky was coming their way. Sam looked mildly annoyed, and Steve understood, but he was also relieved that their conversation was forced to a halt. He didn’t want to talk to Sam about this.

He picked up his head and straightened his back just as Bucky darted into the room without bothering to knock. He’d have to talk to Bucky about that, because it wouldn’t be the first time he’d walk in on him, with a guy or alone, it didn’t really matter.

“Oh, good, you’ve both here,” Bucky said happily as he darted towards the other side of the piano. His hands and shirt were stained with dark paint and his hair was sticking in every direction. Somehow he thought it a good idea to lean onto the lid of the piano, and Steve groaned audibly. Bucky quickly stood back and wiped some paint with his sleeve which only made it worse. “Sorry, I’ll clean this up in a second,” He said, though he didn’t sound very sorry, “Guys, you need to come to the gallery tonight.”

“We do?” Steve asked. Bucky’s enthusiasm just got to him. He let it light him up.

“They’re showing my work,” Bucky beamed. He looked like an overly excited puppy, and somehow Steve couldn’t help but think about Thor. It was yet another thought he quickly shoved out of his head, because thinking about Thor made him think of – great. And here he thought he really _was_ done thinking about him. “Five pieces to be exact,” Bucky continued happily, “One of them yours.”

“Mine?” Steve didn’t understand.

“You know,” Bucky explained animatedly as he waved his hands around, “The first one that I made; the one that shows your back in the sunlight.”

“Oh!”

“I can’t believe a painting like that exists and I’ve never seen it before,” Sam said, a pout on his face. Steve slapped him playfully on the arm and glared at him, though there wasn’t any heat in his gaze. “What?” Sam defended himself. “If there’s a nude painting of my boyfriend in existence, I’d like to see it.”

“If you come to the gallery tonight, you’ll get to see it,” Bucky grinned, “Everyone will get to see it. Maybe people will want to buy something. This is the best opportunity I’ve had all year!”

“Well, I’m sold,” Sam replied.

“Of course we’ll be there, Bucky,” Steve said, “Will Phil be?”

He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Bucky’s eyes lit up at the mention of that name. It was the first time he saw something like that happen. Bucky had had plenty of boy- and girlfriends, but never had he started blushing at the mere mention of a name. “Uhm, yeah,” He said as his cheeks turned a dark red color, “You’ll finally get to meet him.”

Steve shot Bucky a radiant smile. “I look forward to it.”

-x-x-x-

“I can’t believe you posed for this,” Sam said, his head cocked sideways as if that allowed him to see the painting in a better light. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the painting apparently, not even when Steve intertwined their fingers - and tugged at his hand a little, wanting him to walk with him. “Just look at it. How long did you have to stand like that? An hour? Longer?”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with the painting, Sam,” Steve said.

“I’d buy it if I had the money,” Sam said, head still cocked sideways.

“Why would you want to buy it when you can see the live thing every morning if you’d like?” Steve questioned, and _that_ had Sam’s attention shifting back to him, which was a nice change. Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss the back of Sam’s hand.

“Is that an invitation?” Sam asked as he looked into Steve’s eyes. As much as Steve liked seeing him naked in his bed, there was just something compelling about a man dressed in an ink blue suit. “Because I would definitely like to see that live tomorrow morning,” He chuckled.

Steve laughed and pulled him away from the painting. There was more to see after all, and he really wasn’t mentally prepared to stare at his own back for the rest of the evening. “Come on, I want to find Bucky. I want to meet that boyfriend of his.”

There was a crowd. Honestly, Steve hadn’t seen so many people in the gallery before, not even when Matt Murdoch did that series of painting about his childhood. And the guy was blind. People adored him and loved throwing their money at his work, but tonight, everyone here wanted to see Bucky’s art. And Steve had never felt more prideful. The paintings set up underneath various spotlights were brilliantly done, just the right mix of sensual and provocative.

“I think he’s over there,” Sam said, pointing to the window to the left.

Steve only saw a head full of hair, smoothly combed back for a chance, but yeah, that was definitely Bucky. It was difficult to see, but beside him a man stood. He was older than Bucky and he had a sort of stern expression on his face, but when Bucky turned to him, the man’s features instantly softened. Bucky pressed a kiss against the man’s cheek. So that had to be Phil.

Steve quickened his pace and dragged Sam with him through the crowd, only to catch sight of a couple standing by the painting that showed a man in bed, curled up with a thin linen sheet around him. His face was covered by a pillow. Steve halted and wasn’t entirely sure what to do or think.

“Steve?” Sam asked curiously.

“Could you give me a minute?” Steve asked in return, but he didn’t wait for an answer.

He let go of Sam’s hand and moved towards the couple studying the work of art. Thor’s arm was folded around Loki’s middle and they were talking quietly amongst themselves, probably discussing the painting before them. It felt strange seeing them again, here at the gallery nonetheless, but at the same time, it pleased him to see them here, because if there was a particular target audience Bucky needed to reach with his work, it was them.

“Hi, there,” He said, drawing their attention.

Emerald green and ocean blue eyes settled on him as Thor and Loki let go of each other and turned towards him. He couldn’t help it, but Steve’s mind instantly went back to the golden chain around Thor’s hip, his mark of submission, and he wondered if he wore it now. Not that he voiced that thought.

“Steve,” Thor smiled radiantly, “We were hoping to run into you.”

“You were?”

“You look great, Steve,” Loki said.

Emerald green eyes moved up and down Steve’s body – which made Steve acutely self-aware and he couldn’t help but look down, thinking he really shouldn’t have settled on grey. He was instantly pushed back into his role of submissive, a notion that had his chest constrict, excitement thrumming just underneath his skin. It was strange how strong of an effect a Master had on him, how he wanted to do nothing but please, but it was a state of mind he quickly discarded. Loki wasn’t his Master.

“So is all this your friend’s work?” Loki asked a moment later, and with the way he was looking at Steve, there was no mistaking that he was very much aware of the effect he had on Steve. But the smile that curved Loki’s lips upwards wasn’t one of satisfaction. Steve didn’t know what it meant. For some reason, Loki looked pleased and … He couldn’t put his finger to it.

“It is,” He answered after snapping out of his thoughts. It was difficult to think around Loki, because of course it lead to thoughts of Tony. He cleared his throat and decided to just ask the question screaming through his mind. “Is he here?”

Loki was very much aware of who _he_ was.

Just the idea of seeing Tony again had Steve’s heart skip a beat.

“No,” Loki answered, and Steve didn’t miss the way he and Thor exchanged a knowing look. He wished he knew what the hell that meant. “But he did give us the address of this little establishment. He said to keep our eyes open for Bucky Barnes, that we’d like his work, and he’s not wrong. Tony said Mr. Barnes does commissions?”

He shouldn’t feel disappointed that Tony wasn’t here.

“He does,” He said, nodding once. He buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers, suddenly clueless as to what he was supposed to do with himself. “I’ll introduce you to him later tonight if you’d like.”

“That would be great,” Thor smiled.

“We especially like the painting over there,” Loki said, pointing to the work that showed Steve’s back. It hardly surprised him, and truthfully, if it had been Thor posing for that particular one, it would have been much more sensual. “It will sell in the blink of an eye, I’m sure of it. You’re comfortable with the idea of it hanging in some stranger’s living room?”

Steve wasn’t sure what Loki was aiming for, but he didn’t get the chance to find out.

“Steve?”

Startled, Steve turned and found Sam approaching. Right. How could he have forgotten that Sam was here and that he shouldn’t leave his side for too long? After all, Sam didn’t know anyone here, just Bucky, but Bucky was busy talking to others, expanding his business and making money.

“And who’s this?” Loki asked with a voice that was just a bit too sharp.

Steve didn’t know what was going on, but he definitely didn’t like the tone of Loki’s voice. “This is Sam,” He said as Sam came to stand next to him, his arm folding around his waist, “Sam, meet Thor and Loki. They’re … friends.”

Maybe acquaintances would have been a better word. They had met twice now, which meant the definition of ‘being friends’ couldn’t possibly apply yet. And besides, they were Tony’s friends. Frankly, Steve didn’t know why they were here. Somehow he doubted they just wanted to appreciate some art. So were they here to see him? Did they want something of him?

Sam extended his hand which Thor shook, but Loki didn’t. No, Loki ignored him, didn’t even grant him a glance, and Steve sent Sam an apologetic look. Not that he understood why he was apologizing for Loki’s behavior in the first place. Nor did he understand why Loki was acting the way he did. It was childish, really.

“Is he your new lover?” Loki asked.

Steve’s ears burned. “That’s my business,” He said. He didn’t appreciate the hostility that radiated off of Loki.

Thor wrapped a hand around Loki’s and squeezed it gently. “We should go and enjoy some more of your friend’s work,” Thor told Steve. He was obviously the diplomatic one of the two – another reason Steve liked him as much as he did. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Do introduce us to Mr. Barnes later on,” Loki smiled velvety.

Steve watched them walk away, guiding themselves through the crowd, and for some reason, his heart was racing beneath his ribs. Loki had left him bewildered and angry. Loki didn’t like Sam, that much was obvious, and Steve just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Everyone liked Sam. Which meant there was really only one explanation; it had something to do with Tony.

“Friends?” Sam asked skeptically. “I like Thor, Loki not so much.”

Sighing, Steve turned to him and let his forehead rest against his for a moment, using the opportunity to settle. “It’s a very long story,” He said, “Maybe I’ll tell it someday.”

“Okay,” Sam said, though he didn’t seem very interested, which was for the best. He cupped Steve’s chin and tilted it back a little. “Have I told you yet that you look great tonight?”

Steve snorted. “Funny, I just thought to myself that it was a mistake wearing grey.”

Sam chuckled. “Don’t worry about it,” He said with a deep, vibrating voice that always got to Steve, “Once we’re home, I’ll rid you of the suit if you like.” He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Steve’s, softly, but firmly, and Steve melted into the kiss. This was what he needed; a distraction and Sam was a perfect one.

He let his hands run down Sam’s chest and parted his lips, letting him in, moaning softly at the way his tongue explored his mouth, and then it ended, because they were in a public area and no matter how much he wanted Sam to shove him up against a wall and claim him, mark him, it wouldn’t be considered appropriate. Besides, he didn’t think Sam was capable of such a thing.

Steve pulled out of the arms which were folded around him. “Someone wants to get lucky tonight,” He said teasingly. His heart was still hammering inside of his chest, but for a completely different reason now.

Sam grinned dirtily.

“Come on,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. He straightened his back and flattened imaginary creases out of his vest. “Let’s find Bucky, have another drink, and then we can go home.”

“God yes!”

Steve turned back to the window, hoping to find Bucky there, but instead his gaze shifted to the dark street outside of the gallery. Brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. A pair of dark blue jeans and a black leather vest. Tony looked more handsome than ever and Steve felt his heart sink down, all the way to his stomach. Breathing became impossible.

He pulled himself away from Sam.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked with concern lacing his voice.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” And with that, he darted out of the gallery. He was faintly aware that he was ditching Sam for the second time this evening, that he’d only just told himself to _not_ do that, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it, not when Tony was right outside.

By the time he got to the streetlight, Tony was gone, and Steve was starting to think he was going mad. Had he imagined him? Maybe Bucky was right; he really should shove him out of his head. Steve ran a shaking hand through his blond hair and looked to his left, then to his right.

A man with his hands buried deep in the pocket of his jacket and his head hanging low was hurrying away and there was no mistaking; it was Tony.

“Hey!” Steve called out as he ran to catch up with him.

A plethora of emotions swirled through his chest. There was excitement, definitely, because the idea of seeing Tony again, of being near him, already had his body thrum with energy, but there was anger, too, because he was about to face the man that had ditched him after he’d fallen asleep.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!”

Tony halted and turned around so suddenly that Steve nearly bumped into him. “Go back inside, Steve,” Tony said, waving a hand towards the gallery, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening.”

“You didn’t mean to interrupt my evening?” Steve echoed incredulously. “Why are you here then?”

“I thought you wouldn’t be here.”

“Bullshit,” He snapped. He took a step forward, closer to Tony, and his stomach flipped when Tony didn’t move away. If he wanted to, he could reach out a hand and touch him. He could card his fingers through his short brown hair and pull him close and – _no!_ “They’re showing Bucky’s work. Where else would I be?” He balled his hands into fists. “Why did you leave?” The question escaped from him without his permission.

Tony closed his eyes and shook his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “I thought Natasha would have explained–”

“Don’t give me that personal reasons crap,” Steve argued, “What did I do wrong?”

At that, Tony’s eyes snapped open, looking nothing short of shocked. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” He said, the words tumbling from his tongue, “God, Steve, you were perfect and–” He pressed his lips together suddenly and exhaled heavily through his nose. Steve would have none of it, though. He stared at Tony, hard and relentless, demanding answers. “Look,” Tony started after a short moment of silence, “I don’t do …” He pointed between the two of them, “This. Whatever you want from me, I can’t give it to you.”

“You sought me out,” Steve said.

“That’s my mistake.”

Tony was about to turn away, but Steve wouldn’t let him. He grabbed the collar of his leather vest and held him in place. Tony stared at him with dark, chocolate brown eyes, and Steve nearly gave up then and there. He didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to argue. He wanted Tony to take him home and – fuck, what was he thinking? Sam was at the gallery. His boyfriend.

“What do you think I want?” He asked, all the heat having dissipated from his system.

“I will never love you, Steve.”

Steve flinched. It felt like being slapped across the face. Letting go of Tony’s jacket, he stumbled back, suddenly needing distance between them. Tony’s words cut into his flesh like a dull knife. He didn’t know what to do with himself, didn’t know what to think or even say. He swallowed away the hurt that threatened to overwhelm him.

“I never asked you for that,” He forced out. Nausea settled in the pit of his stomach. “God, you’re an asshole!”

“I’m good at that,” Tony said grimly, “Go back to the gallery, Steve, I’m sure your boyfriend is wondering where you are.”

“What made you say that?” He asked stubbornly, because he finally had the chance for some answers and like hell was he going to waste it. He stared at Tony, eyes slightly narrowed, his mind racing at a million miles an hour. “We’ve known each other for a handful of days, why are you already thinking that I want you to love me?”

Tony pressed his lips together, the line of his jaw sharp. Steve wanted to reach out and trace it with the tips of his fingers, but he held back.

“Well?” He asked when it became obvious that either Tony didn’t have the answer to his question – or he refused to acknowledge it. Either way, he wasn’t done just yet. “How long have you been thinking about it? Is that why you left that Thursday? Because the sentiment crossed your mind so you fled?”

“Jesus, Steve,” Tony breathed. He let his head fall forward and ran a hand through his short hair.

Steve stepped up to him again, their bodies nearly touching. Tony looked back up, his gaze concealing so much that Steve just wanted to break through those shields. He wanted to push past them and uncover what made him tick. Without thinking he reached up and let the tips of his fingers brush down the sides of Tony’s face, doing what he’d wanted to do moments ago.

“What are you afraid of?” He asked with a quiet voice.

Tony latched onto his wrists, holding them so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I’m afraid of nothing,” He told Steve, “I just don’t want you to end up hurt, because that’s where we’re heading to. So forget about me, God knows I have forgotten about you.”

He was doing it on purpose.

“Go to your boyfriend,” Tony continued as he let go of him and stepped away, “He looks like he loves you.”

“Tony–”

“Go!” Tony shouted.

Steve jumped back and held his breath. Tears stung his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. This was it then, their goodbye. Life would have been so much easier if this had happened the day Tony had left. He wouldn’t have spent weeks pining after him – there, he’d admitted it; he’d pined after him, had spent nearly every waking second thinking about him, even when Sam was around.

Tony didn’t say another word, swallowed all his words away, and then walked away from him. Steve watched him go, watched how he got smaller and smaller the further he got until he disappeared as he made a left turn. And even then he still couldn’t bring himself to move. He didn’t know why it hurt so much, because there had never been anything to start with.

Dejectedly, he made his way back to the gallery and for one brief second, he hesitated going back inside. But what other choice did he have? Sam hurried towards him as soon as he saw him, and Steve smiled at him. Sam was who he should focus on. Sam was who was with him and prepared to make a commitment.

“Where did you run off to?” Sam questioned after pressing a quick kiss against his lips.

“I saw someone I used to know,” Steve explained. He curled an arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him closer. Sam hummed happily and let his hands rest against Steve’s hips. “I’d like to go home now. Can we go home?”

There was a flash of worry filling Sam’s gaze, but it was quickly replaced by a complacent smile. “Sure,” He said, “Anything for you.”

-x-x-x-

A weight fell off of his shoulders when he came home. He didn’t know why or how, nor did he care. As Sam pulled the front door shut behind them and they made their way into the living room, Steve unbuttoned his vest and shrugged it off. Next went his shoes and tie. He wanted to get out of the suit that felt too tight around his body.

“Let me help you with that,” Sam said. He made Steve face him and, as they shared a look, he began to unbutton Steve’s shirt, slowly, deliberately. “I distinctly remember telling you I’d gladly get you out of this,” He said with a smirk curving the edges of his lips upward, “So let me make good on that promise.”

Sam pushed the shirt down his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The tips of his fingers brushed against his skin, and Steve shuddered. When Sam leaned forward and pressed his lips against the side of his neck, kissing him there, Steve let his head fall sideways. This was what he needed – a distraction. It seemed like Sam was often his distraction.

“Sam,” He started, but he was silenced as Sam sank his teeth into soft flesh just underneath his ear. He grabbed hold of Sam’s arms, needing to steady himself, and gasped when Sam’s tongue lavished the mark.

Hands moved down his sides. Steve leaned into the touch, reveling at the softness. He let Sam guide him towards the couch and sank down, lying back, just going along with the moment. Sam hovered above him and Steve lifted his head, kissing him, and letting Sam engulf him. He needed to focus on him, needed to focus on what was in front of him, not on what had left.

But Sam had left, too.

The thought crashed into his mind with such velocity that it physically hurt. Steve groaned and tried to pull away, only he was trapped beneath Sam, between his arms and the couch. “Sam, stop,” He gasped just as the man started unzipping his trousers.

Sam instantly pulled back. “You okay?”

As soon as Sam shuffled back, giving Steve the space he direly needed, Steve pushed himself into a sitting position and wished he was still wearing his shirt, but it lay carelessly on the floor by the table and he didn’t feel like getting up. He set his feet onto the ground and rested his elbows onto his knees, his head hung low. What the hell was he doing?

“Is this because of …” Sam sounded hesitant and careful, but Steve didn’t look up at him. And he knew exactly what Sam was talking about. How could he not? It was the elephant in the room, had been since their first date a few weeks ago. “I can do that if you’d like.”

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Thoughts were racing through his mind, shouting at him, and he couldn’t make sense of them. He didn’t know what he was doing or what he was supposed to do. He sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about Tony right now. But he was.

“Sam,” He started as he looked back up at the man.

Sam looked nothing short of lost and scared.

“It’s why you left,” He sighed. He angled his body towards him and stared into his dark eyes. “Last time, the first time, we dated for how long? A few weeks? A month? And we were doing great and we were having fun and then you discovered what I liked, what I still like, and it scared the shit out of you, and you left.” He bit down on his lower lip for a moment, needing to think about what he wanted to say, because Sam deserved as much. “I like it when someone ties me down and when someone dominates the shit out of me, but you’re not that someone, Sam, you’re not a Master.”

“I can be,” Sam tried.

“No, you can’t,” Steve countered. He placed a hand against Sam’s cheek and let his thumb stroke the sharp line of it. “It’s just not who you are. We’re not … This isn’t going anywhere.”

“So this is it then?” Sam asked.

Steve nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

With a heavy sigh, Sam pulled away from Steve’s touch. “I thought you’d changed, why I don’t know, it was stupid of me,” He ran a hand over his face and blinked away tears – Steve felt really fucking awful, because Sam didn’t deserve this. “Is this about the guy you saw outside, the one you ran to?”

Steve didn’t answer.

“Yeah, I figured,” Sam said quietly.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” And he meant that. He meant every word of it.

Sam smiled sadly and shook his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” He said. He stood and paused, like he wanted to say something else, but he closed his mouth again. He was going to leave and this time he wouldn’t come back. This time, Bucky wasn’t going to call him later on and Sam wasn’t going to come running. This was their goodbye and it felt … strange, yet right.

Steve rose, too. “We’ll see each other around,” He said, though he knew chances were little to non-existent. Who the hell ever stayed in touch with their ex-lover? They exchanged a final look and then they both understood nothing else was left to be said. Sam turned around and walked away, and when Steve heard the front door close behind Sam, he knew it had been the right decision.

Steve picked up his shirt and shrugged it back on. He and Sam were never meant to be together. He and Tony on the other hand … That was something he needed to figure out.

And he needed to figure it out soon.


	9. The Club

Honestly, Steve didn’t know why he was here.

He’d felt restless, hadn’t been able to sleep, and after haunting the streets of New York for a while – he didn’t even know why on earth he’d come all the way to New York in the first place – he’d found himself in the blind alley that lead to the D&s Club. If he’d been able to talk to Bucky, he wouldn’t be here, he was sure of it, but he hadn’t seen him since the evening at the gallery two nights ago. Bucky was crashing at his boyfriend’s place and Steve refused to spoil the good times he was, without a doubt, having.

He shouldn’t be here, a small voice echoed through his head. Steve stood still at the side of the street and stared at the bouncer in front of the red door. He refused to admit that thoughts of Tony had driven him here. Instead, he blamed it on the restlessness that had settled in his bones a while ago. If Bucky knew he was here, alone, the guy would kick his ass.

But on the other hand, Steve was done living by someone else’s rules. He was a man with needs, his needs more special than a … normal guy, and right now, he wanted, _needed_ someone to make him submit and force him to let go of the mess that was his life. And the mere idea of being at the mercy of a Master had his blood pumping through his veins just a bit faster. It didn’t have to be Tony. He wasn’t desperate for the man. He wasn’t!

And maybe this was his way of proving that to himself and to the world.

Sucking in a deep breath, Steve started walking again and approached the bouncer. He was a big man, even bigger than Thor, with massive arms, a broad chest, and a stern look on his face that nearly made Steve turn around and leave again. Then he remembered the fact that Tony had gotten into this place with a membership card, and shit, he didn’t have that. What had he been thinking? He couldn’t–

“Want in?” The bouncer asked with a deep, vibrating voice.

“Uhm,” Steve started, startled, “Yeah.” It was just him and the bouncer here, a thought he didn’t like to entertain for too long, and wasn’t that just ridiculous? He wanted to get into a BDSM club all by himself, without a Master’s protection, but the bouncer at the door already scared the shit out of him? What the hell was he doing then?

“Dom or sub?”

“Sub,” Steve answered easily.

“Go in then,” The bouncer said, pushing open the door for him. When Steve didn’t instantly move, too perplexed to do so, the bouncer shrugged and offered him a smile, a kind one that actually put him at ease a bit. “There are never enough lone subs inside. Mr. Barton would kick my ass if I refused a pretty one like you entrance.”

Steve didn’t allow himself to think about those words for too long. He darted past the bouncer and hurried inside before he changed his mind, before he decided to make a run for it and run all the way back to Brooklyn.

The moment he found himself in the white lobby, a familiar face behind the desk, Steve felt his muscles relax a bit. With shaking legs and a racing heart, he walked up to Darcy and offered her a polite smile. He was glad to be here now.

“Mr. Rogers,” She said, apparently having remembered his name, “How can I be of service?”

“Err, I’d like to go into the club,” He started as he pointed to the door over his shoulder. He cursed himself for sounding so insecure. Steve cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. It made him taller, but he didn’t _feel_ taller. In fact, he felt small and a part of him wished to become invisible. But that wasn’t why he was here. No, he was here to prove a point. “I don’t have a membership card, though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” A new, but equally familiar voice said. Steve’s head snapped sideways to find Mr. Barton approaching, the man having a giant, pleased smile plastered on his face. “A pretty one like you is always gonna get into the club. We usually ask for a small contribution, but considering what happened with the contract with Mr. Stark, I’ll let you in for free tonight.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Steve said. He was already blushing, his face flushed red, and he wasn’t even inside the club yet, not really.

“Collar?” Darcy asked.

“Uhm,” Right, he should have thought about that.

“I’d settle on white,” Clint Barton offered. He stepped up to the desk and accepted the white, leather collar that Darcy handed him. “It’ll keep unwanted hands off of you. This way, you can choose who touches you.”

That sounded great, actually. Steve let Clint put the collar on him and then began the strip. It was standard procedure, after all. No slaves were allowed dressed into the club. It felt strange shedding his clothes, but at the same time, he hadn’t felt this excited since Tony – stop. Steve forced away all thoughts of the man and cast down his eyes, only to see that the blush on his face reached all the way down to his crotch. He shoved away any shame that threatened to close up his throat. He could do this. He didn’t need Tony.

He folded his clothes and handed them to Darcy who stored them away into a small safe.

“If you’d like, I could find you a good Dom for tonight,” Clint offered.

Steve ran a finger over the leather collar, getting used to the feeling again, and somehow the item felt liberating. “That would be nice, actually,” He heard himself say. The idea of a good Master forcing him to submit, forcing him to forget about Tony and Sam was just what he needed right now.

“Follow me then,” Clint smiled. He guided Steve through the club, people parting for him again, and Steve sheepishly trailed after him. He could feel the interested looks of Masters on him, everyone instantly aware that he was alone, but he trusted that he wouldn’t be touched as long he didn’t want to be. And Clint was with him who owned this place, so he could relax.

They entered a well lit room filled with Jacuzzis. Steve’s eyes widened at the sight of them. By every Jacuzzi, a waiter was positioned to provide the users with whatever they needed, and whenever a Master and slave left, the Jacuzzi was drained of water and thoroughly cleaned. It was all hedonistic and sounds of pleasure drifted towards him, but Steve didn’t mind. If anything, they aroused him, which was good, because that was exactly why he was here.

Clint walked him to an empty one in a corner.

“Fill the tub for Mr. Rogers here,” Clint said, the waiter instantly jumping into action, “Let’s go with lavender.” He turned to Steve then and folded his hands before his stomach. “Enjoy the warmth of the water for a while,” He said while the corners of his lips tugged upwards ever so slightly, “I’ll see if I can find someone perfect for your needs.”

Steve nodded. “Okay,” He said, “Thank you.”

Clint offered him a final warm smile and walked away.

Steve quickly climbed into the half-filled tub and inhaled deeply, the scent of lavender heavenly. When the Jacuzzi was completely full, the waiter shut of the water supply and after asking Steve if he needed anything else – he didn’t – he stepped back and minded his own business. Steve sunk as deep as he could, the warm water coming up to his chin soothing, and he closed his eyes.

He wished Tony had showed him this room when they had come here – fuck, why was he always thinking about Tony? He was here to prove that he didn’t need the man in the first place. Tony definitely didn’t need him. He’d made that clear enough at the gallery. After submerging himself in the water, he held his breath for a few long seconds before coming back up and sucking in a sharp breath.

He didn’t know what he was doing, that much was obvious. He didn’t need Tony, but that was bullshit, wasn’t it? Maybe, just maybe, he really was in love with him. Could that be? He’d only been with him for a few days … Then again; a moment was all it took, one moment to fall in love.

“Get in the tub,” Someone said.

Steve’s eyes snapped open and before he was well aware of what was happening, he was sharing the Jacuzzi with Thor. Loki stood hovering above them, his arms crossed before his chest and his emerald green eyes wide and sharp. Steve liked the guy less and less, especially now that he was forced to share the water with Thor on his command. Granted, Thor was nice and he was definitely hot, but Steve wasn’t sure where he stood on sharing a bath with him, naked, while Thor’s Master was watching.

“What are you doing?” He demanded. He felt relieved that there was nothing but anger and frustration in his voice. Sure, he wanted to have a nice evening with a Master, but that Master was definitely _not_ Loki. Steve’s eyes darted around, but Clint was nowhere in sight.

“We have to talk,” Loki simply said.

“And that has to be here?” Steve asked with pinched up eyebrows.

His gaze kept shifting between Loki and Thor, but it didn’t look like Thor was about to engage in … something. Somehow, on some level, Steve knew that Thor would never do anything he didn’t want. Thor was nice like that and it should help him feel a bit more at ease, but with the way Loki was staring at him, his eyes calculated and oh so exasperated, there was very little Steve could do about the bewilderment and panic that settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Well, we never did finish our conversation at the gallery,” Loki said flippantly. He even went as far as waving a hand around and rolling his eyes. “We were interrupted by that boyfriend of yours. And speaking of boyfriends; is he here?”

Steve couldn’t help but cast down his eyes. Thank God the water was turbid, because he sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from having a peek at Thor. Could anyone blame him if he tried? Thor was massive and handsome and hot. He was godlike.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” He confessed. Why, he didn’t know. “So no, Sam isn’t here.”

“Then why are you here?” Thor asked.

Steve sent him a tight look. “Remind me again why any of this is your business?” He asked sharply. He might like Thor, but that didn’t mean he was going to share anything and everything with him, and again he was reminded that they weren’t friends. No, they were Tony’s friends.

Loki sunk down to his knees and leaned over the Jacuzzi, the tips of his fingers lightly caressing the surface of the water, creating circles with every small movement he made. “We’re just doing our duty,” He said almost absently, his gaze focused on the ripples he produced in the water, “If Tony knew you–” He stopped himself.

Of course. Of fucking course! Steve groaned and let his head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “Well, Tony doesn’t know anything, does?” He asked with his eyes still closed. “And he’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want to know anything.”

“That’s just Tony,” Loki argued.

Steve righted his head and stared at Loki. “I’d like you to leave now,” He gritted out, “I’m here to have a fun evening and you’re spoiling it.”

“Do you like him?” Thor asked suddenly.

It was a mistake to press his lips firmly together, holding back the answer that could easily slip from his tongue. But his silence was answer enough, and Steve did not like the knowing grin that filled Thor’s features. He kicked out his foot and hit Thor’s hip, only to feel the golden chain there, and his thoughts were instantly catapulted back to the evening at their mansion, to the moment where Thor had revealed the item and Tony had traced it with his finger.

“Listen,” Thor said quietly all of a sudden. He straightened his back and leaned a bit closer towards Steve. “Tony fought long and hard to get where he is right now–”

“Thor,” Loki said warningly.

“Hush,” Thor splashed water into his Master’s direction, which earned him a shocked and mortified expression, but Thor ignored him, “You like him, I know you do, we all know you do, Tony included, and that scares the crap out of him.” Steve listened, enthralled, because maybe, just maybe, he’d finally get some answers. “But if you really want this to go somewhere, you’re going to have fight for it.”

Steve cast down his eyes again and sighed. “I shouldn’t have to fight for anything,” He muttered. Why couldn’t his life be easy for once? Why couldn’t Tony just admit his feelings and then they could see where things led them? Wouldn’t that be so much simpler?

“I met Loki right here in this club,” Thor continued as he leaned back again and sunk a bit deeper into the water – thank God it was a big Jacuzzi. “He dominated the shit out of me and it was the best night of my life. I asked him out after and he said no. He told me he didn’t do long-term-commitments. But you know me. Actually you don’t, not really,” The grin that spread across his face actually managed to draw a smile out of Steve, “I can be stubborn as hell. Ask Loki.”

Loki, in the process of studying his nails, simply sighed, “It’s true.”

“So the next time I came here, I searched for him, and surely enough, there he was. I caught his attention and we spent the night together again and I asked him out after again. And you know what he said?”

“He said yes?” Steve offered.

“He said ‘fuck off’,” Thor chuckled, “Little did he know Tony, his best friend, had my number and texted me when they were going to the club again. So the third time I didn’t steal Loki’s attention. I forced it from him and I never let it go. I exhausted him that night and when he was at his weakest, I told him I was going to take him out for breakfast the next morning. And I did.”

Steve’s gaze was shifting between the two of them again, and much to his surprise, he found Loki staring at Thor which such wide, wistful eyes that Steve thought Loki’s eyes were going to drop right out of their sockets. “That’s a nice story,” He said after a short moment of silence – or what he defined as silence, because moans still drifted all around them from other people using the Jacuzzis who were engaging in something more than just talking, “But I don’t see what that has to do with–”

“We’re trying to repay him,” Thor explained. He ran a hand through his long, blond and damp hair, smoothing it back. “If he hadn’t been such a sneaky bastard, Loki and I wouldn’t be together now, so now we’re trying to be the sneaky bastards.”

“So you’re trying to couple us,” Steve finally understood.

“Because we know Tony like the back of our hand,” Loki said, his attention finally shifting away from Thor and back to Steve, “He likes you, Steve. Hell, he passed on a threesome with us, because he couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Steve frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It is, trust me,” Thor grinned, then he suddenly turned all serious again, “It’s not our place to tell you why Tony is acting the way he is, but we’re here to ask you to not give up on him.”

“He said he could never love me,” Steve said dejectedly.

“And did you believe him?” Loki asked.

Steve pursed his lips together and thought about that question. When Tony had said those words, he’d been hurt more than he thought possible. He hadn’t understood where Tony was coming from, still didn’t, but no, he realized, he’d never believed him. Slowly, thoughtfully, Steve shook his head.

“I didn’t,” He confessed.

“That’s all you need to know,” Thor smiled.

“Get out of the tub, Thor,” Loki said as he stood, “Steve has a lot to think about.”

“I wouldn’t do it here, though,” Thor advised.

This time, Steve splashed water into Thor’s face, which had Loki chuckling. “I’m not an idiot,” He told Thor, “Now do as your Master says before he has to punish you for disobedience.”

Thor’s eyes widened comically and he feigned a shock expression. “I see now why Tony likes you so much,” He huffed as he got up and stepped out of the Jacuzzi without a pinch of shame. He stood beside Loki, tall and proud and completely naked. Steve quickly cast down his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening. “We’ll see you around, Steve.” He turned away for a split second before suddenly focusing on Steve again. “I’m gonna get punished for this, but if you really want to know, google Tony’s dad.”

Loki smacked him on the ass, hard, and looked about ready to murder someone, possibly Thor. “You nitwit,” He cursed.

Steve opened his mouth to ask for more information – what on earth did Tony’s dad have to do with any of this? – but Thor and Loki were already walking away. He watched them go, keeping his gaze firmly on the back of their heads, and wondered just what had happened. His heart was beating just a tad faster, his chest heaving ever so slightly, and something akin to bewilderment settled in the pit of his stomach. Was he really supposed to go after Tony? Was that what they had told him?

He wanted to, _God_ he wanted to, but then … Wouldn’t that make him the biggest asshole? He’d only just broken up with Sam and he was already going to pursue someone else? On the other hand, Tony had come first, then Sam. Dammit, none of it made sense, no matter how hard he tried.

Groaning, Steve dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling. Life was getting complicated beyond his will. He’d never wanted this and this was Bucky’s fault. He’d called Natasha Romanov. But then, the signing of the contract was all on him. Sighing heavily, Steve closed his eyes and focused on the lavender scent still surrounding him.

For now, he just wanted to soak in the water and not think about anything.

“I see you had visitors.”

Steve peeked open one eye and found Clint Barton standing by the side of the Jacuzzi.

“I’m going to have to take a rain-check on that …” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, which was ridiculous. He was in a BDSM club, but he was too shy to say something like ‘Dominant’? What had he turned into? This was all Tony’s fault. They guy messed with him on levels he hadn’t thought possible. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I think I’m gonna head home now.”

He stood up and gladly accepted the towel the waiter held out of him.

Clint smiled knowingly – they all looked like they knew more than he did, which was starting to frustrate the hell out of him. “I understand, Mr. Rogers,” Clint said, “I’ll escort you to Darcy’s desk.”

Steve very much appreciated that.

-x-x-x-

He was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch and a large bowl of ice cream in his hands, when Bucky came home. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone. Steve heard him laugh before he came into view and only then did he think of Phil. Steve wanted to knock himself on the head for his inconsideration.

Hastily, he set his bowl aside in the hopes of darting up to his bedroom, but Bucky and Phil were already entering the living room, halting in the doorway as their gazes instantly locked onto Steve who now felt like the biggest asshole in the universe. He was going to meet his best friend’s boyfriend at three in the morning wearing shaggy pants, an old T-shirt with holes in it, and a bowl of ice cream in his hands.

“Why don’t you head upstairs?” Bucky softly asked Phil.

“No, don’t worry about me,” Steve quickly interjected. He jumped up and felt guilt crushing his chest, making it hard to breathe – or maybe there was another reason for that, too. He couldn’t know for sure. Everything felt like a mess. And sure, he wanted to talk to Bucky about it, wanted to vent to his best friend about all that had happened during the past few days, but there Bucky was, having brought him his boyfriend for the first time – unless Phil had snuck in and out without his knowledge a few times already – and Steve refused to ruin that.

“We’ll talk in the morning, Bucky,” He turned to Phil who still hadn’t moved, looking unsure, yet stoic at the same time. Only now did he remember that Bucky had told him he was a few years older than him so he shouldn’t be so surprised. And he did look like he worked for the government, what with wearing a stark black suit and a stern look in his eyes. He was rather intimidating. “Hi,” He forced out, holding out a hand, “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Phil’s austere gaze was replaced with a smile and he shook the hand Steve offered to him. “I’ve heard a lot about you, all good things, trust me,” The words actually made him feel a little better, until Phil turned to Bucky, pressed a quick kiss against his cheek and whispered a quick, “I’ll see you upstairs.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Bucky smiled gratefully.

Steve watched Phil head upstairs and, without another word, Bucky, the amazing friend that he was, grabbed himself a bowl of ice cream, too, and sank down onto the floor where just moments ago Steve sat. He patted the space besides him, and after some hesitation, Steve sank down with a heavy sigh, their shoulders brushed against each other. He was glad he got the chance to talk to him, though he was adamant about keeping it short.

“So,” Bucky started, “It’s three in the morning and we’re having ice cream. Care to explain?”

Steve, having taking his own bowl in hand again, took another spoonful of the deliciousness and put it in his mouth, just to have a reason not to talk yet. He was still sorting out his thoughts and a small voice in the back of his head told him he’d still be doing it tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after, so maybe talking wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“I broke up with Sam two nights ago,” He said.

Much to his surprise, Bucky didn’t look surprised. “You know what I’m thinking?” He asked, sending him a quick glance. “We don’t have enough chocolate sauce for this kind of conversation.”

It was enough to draw a soft chuckle from Steve’s lips. Bucky jumped up and returned a few moments later with a bottle of the dark heaviness.

“We’re set. Spill.”

“I’m not really sure there’s a lot to say, Bucky,” Steve said after pouring too much chocolate sauce onto his vanilla ice cream. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all and let Bucky go up to his boyfriend. That was what any good friend would do, but no, right now, he was a selfish dick, and he rather enjoyed sitting with Bucky like this.

“I have only one question,” Bucky started, his gaze switching between Steve and his bowl of ice cream, “Does this or does this not have anything to do with a certain Tony Stark?”

Honestly, Steve didn’t know anymore. “Maybe,” He chose, “I don’t know.”

Bucky stared at him, his brown eyes filled with concern and uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. Steve didn’t blame him. He wasn’t sure what to say either. Hell, he didn’t know what to _feel_. He’d broken up with a man and all that shifted through him was … relief. He felt like a jackass.

“You know what I like, Buck,” He said, his voice barely audible, and if he stared any harder at the contents of his bowl, he thought he might actually fall into it, “Sam could never do that.”

“But Tony can,” Bucky said. It wasn’t a question.

“I saw him the night at the gallery,” He said equally quiet, still staring down at the ice cream, “He stood just outside and I went out to talk to him. I shouldn’t have.”

At that, Bucky lost all interest in his ice cream. He set his bowl aside and turned look at Steve with wide, curious eyes. “Jesus, I leave you for two days and everything has changed,” He said with a pinch of humor in his voice. “So what did he say?” He asked curiously. “Did you ask him why he left?”

Steve nodded and glanced up at his best friend. “I did,” He answered, “And you’re right; he’s an asshole.”

Bucky groaned. “What did he say?”

“A lot of bullshit,” Steve sighed.

“Well, he’s a jackass,” Bucky muttered.

“He really is,” Steve confirmed. He was a jackass who he was in love with. Steve stirred his ice cream along with the chocolate sauce since he no longer felt hungry now that he was talking to Bucky. “He knows that we shared something and it scared the crap out of him so he left. Thor and Loki pretty much confirmed it at the D&s Club.”

Bucky’s eyes widened with disbelief and shock. “What?” His voice jump up with three octaves. “You went to the D&s Club by yourself?” He smacked the side of Steve’s arm. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“Nothing happened, no worries,” Steve quickly said, wanting to put Bucky at ease again, “And if I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have bumped into Thor and Loki in the first place – or they wouldn’t have jumped into a Jacuzzi with me.” He sent Bucky a grin, but quickly wiped it off of his face when Bucky looked nothing short of worried. “Stop looking at me like that.”

A full minute of silence passed before Bucky decided to let the matter go, “Thor and Loki,” He started, “They were at the gallery.”

Steve nodded and remembered that he never did introduce them to Bucky like he promised he would, but apparently they had introduced themselves. Somehow that didn’t surprise him.

“They bought your painting.”

“What?”

“They offered a shit-ton of money,” Bucky said sheepishly, his cheeks turning red, “I couldn’t refuse.”

Steve’s eyes widened with realization. “Ten thousand dollars,” He breathed.

“How did you know?”

Because that was how much Tony had offered him after he’d broken off the contract. Angrily, Steve jumped up and set his bowl of ice cream onto the kitchen table, Bucky trailing after him, nothing but confusion in his dark eyes. “Thor and Loki didn’t buy the painting,” He said with a tight voice. He leaned onto the surface of the table, just to prevent his hands from balling into fists. “Tony did.”

“Oh.”

He had to do something, anything. So Tony thought he could shove him away and still play this … game with him? God, he was a bigger asshole than Steve gave him credit for! And sure, Thor and Loki had explained his behavior a bit, but that didn’t make this okay. Tony was _not_ allowed to buy a painting of him after the way he’d treated him.

Angrily, Steve moved into the hallway and grabbed the first jacket he got his hands on. He didn’t even care whether or not it was his. He and Bucky shared stuff all the time.

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked.

“I gotta talk to him.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

Right.

Steve halted and turned to his friend. He couldn’t go knocking on Tony’s door at this hour. Besides, he wasn’t sure yet what he wanted to achieve with that. Did he want to yell at Tony? He did. Did he want to demand just what sort of game he was playing? Definitely. Did he want to grab his stupid face and kiss him? Unfortunately, that too.

He released a breath he hadn’t known to be holding.

“I can’t go charging at him,” He realized.

“You really can’t,” Bucky agreed.

He hanged the jacket back onto the peg and turned to his friend, suddenly remembering that Phil was upstairs waiting for him and that he’d taken up enough of their time. “You should go to your boyfriend,” He said softly, all the anger and frustration that he’d been building up deflating from his system, “Don’t worry about me, Bucky, I’m just gonna go to bed and try to get some sleep.”

Bucky pursed his lips together and crossed his arms before his chest. “Are you sure?”

Steve smiled reassuringly at him. “I’m sure,” He said, “Now go.”

Bucky hesitated, for obvious reasons, but eventually headed upstairs.

When Bucky was out of sight, Steve settled back against the couch, grabbing his laptop and starting it up. He was tired of the games, tired of not knowing, and before he went out to talk to Tony, he needed to have more facts. He opened Google Chrome and typed in Tony’s name, Thor’s words echoing through his mind. Finding the name of Tony’s father wasn’t difficult and Steve went through a bunch of websites all depicting Tony’s college career and how he built his company from scratch. While it was all interesting information, it wasn’t what Steve was looking for.

He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find, if he’d find anything in the first place, but then he stumbled upon an old newspaper article with Howard Stark in the headline. It was over thirty years old.

Steve’s breath was caught in his chest. As he read the article, he finally began to understand why Tony was acting the way he was. He was finally able to understand that what he’d seen from the man was just the surface of his persona. Steve read the entire article and, finally, Tony’s behavior and ideas made a lot more sense.


	10. The Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it: the final chapter! I want to thank everyone who has read this story. You guys are awesome! I do hope you will enjoy this final chapter :)

Tony hadn’t expected someone at his door so early. It was – he checked his phone, the bright light hurting his eyes – five in the morning, which wasn’t a decent hour at all. Groaning, Tony tossed his phone aside onto the bed and shrugged on his silky bathrobe. He tied it tightly around his waist. Rubbing the fatigue from his eyes, he prepared himself to curse, loudly and obscenely, at whoever stood at his door, knocking the hell out of it at this ungodly hour.

Growling, because the knocking was starting to hurt his ears and grate at his nerves, Tony swung open the door and opened his mouth, ready for the first words that no one should get tossed at their heads to spew from his tongue, only to falter. Before him stood Steve Rogers, looking like he’d just crawled out of bed himself. His hair stood in every direction and his clothes looked a bit rumpled like he tossed them on in a matter of seconds. His vibrant blue eyes stood wide and energetic, however, and Tony’s mind became blank.

“I know it’s early,” Steve started, unmoving, “But I couldn’t wait anymore.”

He should say something, anything, but nothing came to him. Tony stared at Steve, unable to process the fact that Steve stood, in fact, before him. All he had to do was grab him by the collar of his leather jacket and pull him inside. He could have him on his knees in a matter of seconds, could have him begging with just a few demanding touches, but then everything he’d been working towards would be shattered into a thousand pieces.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He finally managed to get out.

If Steve was taken aback by his words, he didn’t show it. If anything, he seemed more determined since he pushed his way past Tony and entered the penthouse. Again, Tony was too stunned to react. He wasn’t used to this kind of Steve, and all he could do was close his door and turn around, unsure of what the hell was going on. And he wanted to keep his eyes on Steve at all times for various reasons – because he wanted to know what he was up to, because he liked looking at him, and because he needed visual contact to remind himself that he was, in fact, _here_.

“But I am,” Steve said after a short silence. He moved to the center of the living room, by the coffee table, and shrugged off his jacket. He didn’t stop there, though. No, he kicked off his shoes next and then unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, his fingers moving deliberately as they moved further down.

Tony could only gape.

“Tell me to stop.”

The tanned skin of Steve’s chest became visible and after he finished unbuttoning his shirt, he let it slip down his broad shoulders. It fell to the floor, and Tony’s breath faltered at the sight of Steve’s bare torso, at the sight of his hardened nipples, and his taut abs. Only when Steve began to unbuckle his belt did he snap out of it.

Tony darted towards him and grabbed hold of his wrists, forcing them a halt.

The fact that he stood so close to Steve wasn’t helping. He felt the warmth of Steve’s body radiating off of him, engulfing him, making it even harder to think – and thinking was already impossible. Tony squeezed his eyes shut in the hopes of sorting out his thoughts, but knowing that Steve was standing right before him, half naked, confused him more than he thought possible.

“What are you doing?” He demanded with a tight voice. He wasn’t in control; not of his voice, not of his actions, and certainly not of Steve’s. The loss of control had his stomach twist uncomfortably. Tony groaned, but forced himself to open his eyes and look at the man he’d tried to push away so damn persistently.

“I’m tired of your games,” Steve told him, nothing but determination in his gaze. It knocked whatever small quantity of sense Tony still had left right out of him. “I’m tired of your bullshit, Tony. You could never love me? That’s a lie and you know it. So I’m here to prove that.”

“Shit, Steve,” Tony sighed. He vaguely realized that he was still holding onto Steve’s wrists, his grip so tight he might be bruising him, so he quickly let go and took a step back. He needed to distance himself from Steve, literally and figuratively, but it was damn hard with Steve being the stubborn ass that he was. “I told you already,” He added, “I don’t do … _this_.”

“Because of your father?”

The question felt like a slap to his face. Tony stumbled back and swallowed heavily in the hopes of forcing away the panic that threatened to suffocate him. Where was this coming from? He stared at Steve, shocked and scared, only for realization to settle.

“Thor and Loki, right?” He asked sharply, nothing but accusation lacing his voice.

“They may have nudged me in right direction,” Steve admitted, and gone was his determination. Gone was his confidence. His shoulders started to hunch forward a little and his hands trembled at his sides. His bright blue gaze softened, which Tony wasn’t sure he liked. “I’m sorry for what he has–”

“Hell no,” Tony snapped, shaking his head and feeling nauseous, “This isn’t something you want to get involved with, Steve. This is a mess you don’t want in your life.” He took another step back, and another, before he turned away and headed to the bar by the window. He needed a drink, screw whatever hour it was!

Steve’s hand gripping the back of his bathrobe stopped him. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and wondered just what he had to do for Steve to leave. Did he have to scream at him? Curse him? Hurt him? Tony realized he wanted to do none of that, which was fucking fantastic, because where the hell did that leave him?

When Steve’s hands slipped to his hips, grasping them so tightly he was sure he’d have bruises in a few hours, Tony shuddered and told himself to pull away. He had to. Any moment now. _Now_.

The feeling of Steve’s lips dragging down the back of his neck drew a muffled moan from his lips. His heart was already racing beneath his ribs and every muscle in his body tensed as a shudder ran down his back. Inside his head, a voice was screaming at him to push Steve away, to make him leave, but he just couldn’t, not as Steve was kissing the back of his neck like that, his lips dragging over his skin.

Steve’s hands slipped to the silky cord holding his bathrobe closed.

“Steve,” He breathed. With swift movements, he placed his hands on top of Steve’s, not allowing them to untie his bathrobe. Steve responded by intertwining their fingers and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh just under his hairline.

“I know this is what you want,” Steve murmured to him, nothing but conviction in his voice, “Your body betrays you.” He pulled a hand away and slipped it down Tony’s stomach, down and down, all the way to his crotch, and yes, his cock was definitely responding to all the touches and kisses and breathed words. “Let me give you what you want, Master.”

“Fuck, Steve.” It took all the willpower in the world to free himself of Steve’s arms. His chest was heaving with how fast and shallow he was breathing. “You mess with me, I’ll give you that, but this isn’t going anywhere, it never will.” Hurtful words it was. Steve should never have come here. “It’s just sex, nothing more.”

“Liar,” Steve accused.

Ah, there it was; the first signs of exasperation. He just had to push all the right buttons, say all the right words and Steve would leave. He wouldn’t come back again then. He would give up, like he should, like others had done before him.

“I don’t do relationships, Steve, and–”

“Because you’re scared,” Steve interjected.

“Damn right!”

Tony snapped his mouth shut and held his breath. He really wanted Steve to get out now. And if the man refused, then Tony wanted at least a semblance of control over the situation again. But with the way Steve was looking at him, that determination having returned to his gaze, making him nearly irresistible, Tony had a hard time keeping himself upright as it was.

His knees felt seconds away from buckling, caving under his weight.

“I want to hurt you,” Tony started when it became clear Steve wasn’t about to talk. If lies and hurtful words weren’t doing the job, maybe the truth would. “Every ounce of my body itches to grab you and force you down and _hurt you_.” Against better judgement, he approached Steve again until they stood mere inches away from each other. “Do you know how much that scares the fuck out of me? And it should scare the fuck out of you, too.”

“You’re not your dad,” Was all Steve replied.

Tears stung his eyes, tears of frustration and distraught and desperation, but he refused to let them escape. He was barely breathing and his hands were balled into tight fists. Couldn’t Steve see how screwed up he was? He shouldn’t come ten miles within his reach. He should be fleeing for the other side of the country! But there he stood, right before him, knowing the truth and yet he wasn’t running.

“You don’t know me, pet,” He said, and shit, that was a mistake.

Steve’s eyes lit up at the term of endearment. “You want to hurt me … but Tony, I _want_ you to hurt me,” He closed the distance between them and fisted Tony’s bathrobe, holding onto it so tightly that the knuckles of his hands turned white. Tony knew there wasn’t a chance of getting away now. “I want you to force me down to my knees and make me beg. I want you to tie me down and abuse my skin. I want you to take me to the club again and show everyone there that I belong to you, just you. Tony, I want _you_.”

Tony pressed his lips together, refusing to say another word, because they weren’t getting through to Steve anyway. And shit, he wasn’t sure he could trust his own voice right now anyway.

“Your father hurt your mother,” Steve said softly, his bright blue eyes filled with compassion – no pity, Tony noticed, which was nothing short of a relief. “You were just a kid and you shouldn’t have seen all that violence. But Tony, you and your father couldn’t be more different. What your father did to your mother, the beating and the verbal abuse, it’s _nothing_ like what you want to do to me. Your father hurt to hurt, but we …” Steve smiled. He fucking smiled! And he looked so beautiful. “We chase pain and pleasure. We consent.”

He really needed to start breathing properly again. His chest was starting to hurt and the edges of his vision were blurring, or maybe that was because of the tears. “He hit her, threatened her, forced her to submit, because she was nothing to him, just a … slave he could use and abuse.” He didn’t know why he was telling Steve all this, but the words were leaving his lips anyway and he did nothing to stop them. “I watched them fight, day after day, until Howard threw her down the stairs and killed her.”

Slowly, carefully, Steve reached up and brushed the back of his hand down the side of Tony’s face. That it became wet with escaped tears didn’t seem to bother him. Steve simply looked at him and listened. He didn’t tell him that all that was in the past. He didn’t tell him how sorry he was. He just _looked_ at him like he was the center of an otherwise unimportant world.

“I know they loved each other,” Tony whispered, “And look what it got them; death and a lifetime in jail.”

“And look at where you are,” Steve replied easily, “Living the life in New York City with your own company and close friends and a guy who’s madly in love with you.”

Tony hid his face behind his hand and tried to regain control over himself – it was the only thing he could have some control over. He inhaled sharply and willed the racing of his heart to slow down. “Close friends whose asses I’m going to kick the first time I see them again and a guy who doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.”

Steve chuckled, the sound so warm and genuine that Tony couldn’t help but drop his hand and look at him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve said, nothing but sincerity in his gaze, “You tried to piss me off, and you succeeded – God, you won’t believe how angry I’ve been with you – but you’ve failed to push me away.”

“I’m aware,” Tony said, and much to his own surprise, the corners of his lips tugged upwards in a small smile, “Don’t know why I failed.”

“Because you’re in love with me,” Steve said stubbornly.

To that, Tony said nothing. Love was something he avoided. Love was something ugly and dangerous, but what he and Steve had right now, it was anything but. It was new and exciting and beyond terrifying.

“Do you trust me?” Steve asked carefully then.

Tony narrowed his eyes and pulled away just a little. “That’s a loaded question,” He settled on. Was he in love with Steve? Yes, he was which was why he had done his damn best to push the man away. Did he trust him? That was a whole other matter. “Why do you ask?” He squinted at the man.

The smile that curved Steve’s lip upwards should be illegal. Tony watched, mesmerized, as Steve tugged him along towards the master bedroom, his hand tightly clasped around his as if he feared Tony was going to pull away at the last moment. He wasn’t, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t filled with apprehension in every fiber of his body.

Steve let go once they were in Tony’s bedroom, only so he could take a step back and continue removing his clothes. All the while, he kept his gaze locked with Tony’s.

Tony watched enraptured, unable to move himself, no matter how much he wanted to tear his own clothes from his body and throw himself at Steve. It was terrifying to know that he was anything but a Dominant right now that he didn’t have any say in what was happening, and that was when it hit him. And it hit him hard. Steve was dominating him as his submissive, which was really an ultimate form of trust, and Tony wasn’t sure how he thought about that. He’d never done this with anyone before.

Steve noticed his panic, but he said nothing, for which Tony was really fucking grateful, but whatever he expected Steve to do, it wasn’t him closing the distance between them and gently cupping his face. It wasn’t Steve leaning close and brushing his lips against his, the kiss light and nearly chaste. He focused on the way Steve’s hands ran down his chest before slowly opening his bathrobe and pushing it down his shoulders until it fell to the floor.

“I’ve got you, Master,” Steve said as he looked at Tony with bold, fearless eyes. His hands slipped underneath the white shirt Tony wore to sleep in and lifted it up and over his head, leaving Tony’s torso naked. He was sure Steve could actually see the wild beating of his heart. Steve brushed his hands over every inch of his skin, feeling every small dent and imperfection. “Do you trust me?” He asked again with a thick voice.

Tony found himself nodding and he shuddered when Steve’s hands moved down. His thumbs slipped inside the waistband of his sweatpants, touching the soft pubic hairs just above his semi-hardness. _God!_ Tony groaned and his eyes fluttered shut when Steve pressed a thigh against his crotch, the pressure and friction enough to make him completely hard.

This was happening and what surprised him the most was the fact that he wanted it to happen. He wanted to see what Steve had planned, wanted to know how far he could be pushed until he reached his limit and broke, because with the way things were going, it sure felt like that was what Steve was aiming for. Maybe this was his comeuppance.

Steve pushed down his sweatpants, revealing his hardness, and stroked it. Tony had to grab hold of Steve’s shoulders to steady himself, and by this rate, he was going to cum in a matter of minutes which wouldn’t please either of them, so he bit down on his lower lip and desperately tried to control the arousal that filled him. But Steve standing so close, their naked bodies touching, electricity crackling between them, and Steve’s hand around his cock wasn’t exactly helping.

Steve pressed his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. Tony found himself leaning into him, wanting to surround himself with as much Steve as he could, because by the heavens, he’d missed him. He wrapped his arms around the man and pulled him close. Steve’s hand to Tony’s back and he let it slip further down, over the swell of his ass.

“Trust me,” Steve repeated in a whisper.

Tony didn’t understand at first, not until he felt a warm, dry finger press against his hole, teasing it. He froze, his eyes having snapped open. “Steve,” He started, understand now where Steve was going with all … this, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything.

“ _Trust me_ ,” Steve mouthed at the rapidly pulsing vein at the side of his neck. He tugged Tony towards the bed and turned them around just before he guided Tony to lie down on his back. He grabbed hold of the back of Tony’s thighs and spread them open so he could position himself between them, leaning onto his knees.

A shudder ran down Tony’s body. He looked at Steve with nothing but awkwardness in his limbs. He had no sense of direction, what with every ounce of control having been stripped away, and the idea of Steve touching him like that, stretching him open, planning to fill him, fuck him, no, make love to him, left him nervous, make that fucking terrified.

Steve, apparently noticing every small detail about him tonight, kissed him lazily. There was no rush, no desperate chase for pleasure. It was just the two of them, together, and for the first time, Tony felt relieved that Steve was leading him, because this was new territory for him.

He watched with wide, uncertain eyes as Steve grabbed a bottle of lube from a drawer of his nightstand and poured a generous amount into the palm of his hand and onto the fingers, coating them. Not a second passed by where Steve wasn’t looking at him, though, gauging his state of mind and kissing him as soon as a flash of panic threatened to consume him. And Tony felt grateful.

The moment Steve probed his hole, testing it, Tony threw his head back and forbade any noise from leaving him.

“Has anyone done this to you, Master?” Steve asked, and shit, that deep, vibrating voice nearly had him breaking down in sobs. Or maybe the first finger breaching him would.

“No,” He gasped, “No one, pet.”

Anticipating, Steve kissed him, his tongue running across Tony’s lower lip as he stretched him with two fingers. Tony didn’t know what to do with himself. He was writhing beneath Steve, his hands desperately grasping at the sheets beneath him. His legs trembled, but Steve kept a firm hold on them. Tony couldn’t bring himself to look at his pet.

“Thank you, Master,” Steve murmured, “For your trust and for the honor.”

“Oh God, Steve,” Tony moaned.

“I got you, Master,” Steve promised and as he did, he pushed a third finger inside of him, “You can let go now, because I’m right here to catch you, do you hear me?”

Tony’s entire body was shaking.

Steve withdrew his fingers and cupped Tony’s face. “Look at me,” He said softly, the words a request rather than an order. Tony hazily blinked open his eyes, but he had trouble focusing on Steve. He barely had any idea anymore what was happening, or why he allowed it to happen. “Master, look at me, please.”

Tony forced whatever air was left in his lungs out. It was easier to focus on Steve then, and the sight that met him was beautiful. Steve hovered above him, blue eyes having only attention for him. His hair was a mess, Tony noticed, and he reached up and carded his fingers through the short, blond hairs, something he loved to do, ever since he met him.

Steve smiled at him and kissed him. “Okay,” He whispered against his lips, and oh, Tony had missed that little word. Steve reached down and, after coating his length with the excess lube on his fingers, he lined it with Tony’s prepared ass. “I’m going to take care of you, Master,” He said right before he started pushing in.

Tony whimpered and suddenly wondered again why he was doing this. He placed his hands flat against Steve’s chest, as if wanting to push him away – hell, maybe he actually did want to push him away. No one had done this to him before. He’d never _allowed_ someone to do this to him, so why was he taking the leap with Steve? Right, because he was in love with him and he trusted him, and wasn’t that just one big mistake?

“Master,” Steve breathed as he dipped his head and pressed his forehead against Tony’s.

The gesture was strangely soothing and the closeness of Steve comforted him. It wasn’t a mistake. No, didn’t this feel right? Tony closed his eyes and let the question sear through his mind.

“Do it,” He heard himself say after a moment of silence.

Steve pushed further in until his hips pressed against Tony’s ass.

Gasping, Tony quickly wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him down, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He refused to sob. He refused to! But Steve had him, like he’d promised he would, and Tony knew he really could let go. And he did. He let Steve guide him.

Steve began moving then, slowly pulling out before pushing back in, and Tony groaned at the feeling. Sure, he’d fingered himself at times, had even used a dildo once or twice during a particularly boring night, but that was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to the feeling of Steve filling him.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” He stammered.

He felt Steve pull away from him, and panic instantly crashed into him, hard and destructive, the idea of Steve leaving him knocking all the air from his lungs, but Steve didn’t plan on leaving. He simply put a few inches of space between them so he could look at his Master with aroused eyes. Every inch of Steve’s skin was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

“Steve …”

Steve replied by pulling out and pushing right back in, using a bit more speed and force. Tony couldn’t help but cry out and buck his hips to accommodate Steve’s length, and when he felt the tip press against his prostate, Tony’s cock twitched against his stomach. He needed that again, and Steve knew it, too. He repeated the movement again and again, pressing against Tony’s prostate with every thrust he gave, leaving Tony on the verge of losing his mind.

“Give me your pleasure, Master,” Steve moaned, the feeling of Tony’s tight ass around his girth seemingly enough to make his cum, but he didn’t, not yet. He wrapped a hand around Tony’s cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts. His usually bright blue eyes were now nearly black with lust and wanton. “Please kiss me, Master,” He said as the control was slowly slipping from him.

Tony gladly pulled those few strands of control towards him. He guided Steve’s lips to his and kissed him, the act slow, but demanding. Steve moaned into his mouth and after a few final thrusts, he came, filling Tony with his cum. It felt so strange, but the feeling of Steve’s cum dripping from his ass, down his thighs, was enough to make him cum, too. He twisted and writhed beneath Steve, the feeling of his cock inside of him and his hand on his length too much, but Steve didn’t stop. He kept moving throughout their orgasms.

Only after a few long minutes did he slow to a stop. Steve’s arms were trembling as they struggled to keep him up.

Tony gasped as Steve pulled out of him, suddenly left empty and cold, but Steve didn’t roll away. He collapsed on top of him and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. Tony easily and eagerly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him in place, not wanting him to move away.

“Thank you, Master,” Steve sighed blissfully.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to speak, unwilling to ruin this moment – whatever this moment was. They were lying in bed, their limbs tangled together with the smell of sex lingering in the air, but what did that mean exactly? Steve had admitted he was in love with him and he’d admitted the same in silence. Were they together now? Was it that easy?

He doubted it. They still had a long, long way to go, but maybe, just maybe, Tony hoped, there was a chance for them. Thor and Loki seemed to believe so. Steve was definitely convinced there was hope for them, that they could build something together and–

“You’re thinking too much,” Steve muttered against his chest. A second later, he blinked open his eyes and picked up his head to look at Tony. “Are you going to send me away?”

Tony’s gaze flitted towards Steve’s hand folding around his, his touch so soft and gentle that it threatened to close up his throat. “I haven’t … I’m not … I’m new to this,” He finally got out. It earned him a warm smile from Steve.

“There’s just one thing you need to know for now,” Steve said, “And it’s that you are my Master and I am your pet.”

It sounded easy like that. Uncomplicated.

“I knew you would be a pain in my ass,” Tony joked, or he tried to at least, because he’d had quite enough emotional drama for one day. Any more and he feared he might actually break down and he wasn’t sure he was ready to pick up the pieces in which he’d be left in. But then, Steve was there, too, to help pick up the pieces apparently. It was noble of him, but then again, that shouldn’t surprise him.

Steve was kind and sweet and gentle, but there was no doubt about his cunningness either. Maybe that was why Loki liked him as much as he did. Maybe it was why _he_ liked him so much, though that was an understatement. He’d never allowed anyone to put him in such a vulnerable position, had never allowed anyone to do to him what Steve had just done, which frightened him, but also excited him.

“Thinking, Master, too much of it,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“Right,” Tony replied, nodding.

They lay together and how Tony managed to, he didn’t know, but eventually, he did stop thinking. Eventually, he just enjoyed the way he and Steve lay together, their bodies basking in the afterglow of sex. And after a while, he fell asleep with his arms still tightly wrapped around his pet.

-x-x-x-

He woke up alone, arms spread wide and folded around fluffy white pillows. Nothing but a thin sheet covered the lower half of his body. Groaning, every inch of his body aching, especially his ass, Tony pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed a hand over his face, trying to get rid of the fatigue lingering in his muscles. It didn’t linger for very long, though, especially not as the events from earlier that morning crashed into his mind.

He was alone. His chest tightened painfully and his throat closed up. Steve had left him and – no, that didn’t make any sense. Jumping out of bed and quickly throwing on his sweatpants and T-shirt, Tony darted out of his bedroom, wanting, _needing_ , to find him.

Noise from the kitchen reached his ears and instant relief crashed into him like a wave crashing into a rocky shoreline.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, his eyes locked onto Steve’s form - Steve who was whipping up pancakes, apparently, but at the noise of Tony’s hurried footsteps, he spun around. There was a moment where nothing happened, where everything seemed to stop, only for a big smile to suddenly lighten up his features.

“Good morning,” He greeted Tony as he waved a spatula around and wiped his other hand clean using a towel he’d attached to his jeans. Other than that, he wore nothing, and the sight of his bare torso covered with some flour here and there had a laugh rip from Tony’s lips. “I made breakfast and you’re making fun of me. I find that rude.”

“No, no,” Tony said, shaking his head, “Not making fun of you. How could I when you’re looking like _that?_ ”

Steve glanced down and realization instantly dawned on him. “Oh,” He said as he quickly wiped the white residue off of his chest, “Well, I couldn’t instantly find my shirt and I wanted to have breakfast ready before you woke up, so …”

“I’m not complaining,” Tony grinned. He stepped around the table and, as soon as he was close enough, he gripped Steve’s hips and pressed their groins together. A muffled groan escaped Steve’s lips and his eyes fluttered shut, and oh, it was good to know that he was back in control. And it was good to know that Steve didn’t plan on talking about what happened just a few hours earlier. There was nothing left to be said after all. Not right now.

Steve dipped his head down and pressed a quick, almost innocent kiss against his lips. “You and your thinking,” He said, “It’s going to be your undoing.”

Tony didn’t disagree with him on that. He could taste the coffee Steve had already had, and it made him crave some as well. Once Steve pulled back, he released a heavy, but pleased sigh and filled a mug with the black deliciousness that was absolutely necessary to start his day with.

“Let’s eat,” He offered, “And then we can shower together.”

At that, Steve sent him an interested look before he nodded eagerly. “Okay,” He said.

That one little word was enough to have another warm laugh escape Tony’s lips.

-x-x-x-

“Stop fidgeting,” Tony whispered to him, but Steve couldn’t help it. He checked his tie again, straightened imaginary creases out of his suit and even went as far as squirming a little because the fabric itched – though that particular detail was just in his head, he knew that, because a suit as expensive as this one just did not itch. “You look fantastic, Steve, and frankly, adorable, too, but now it’s getting ridiculous.”

Steve sent him a dark glance, still not having forgiven him for this particular surprise. “I told you I didn’t want a new suit,” He replied, “And I definitely didn’t want a tailor-made one.”

“And I had one made anyway,” The grin on Tony’s face was too haughty for Steve’s liking, but there was very little he could do about it here, “Now stop drawing all the attention to you, Cinderella. This isn’t your day after all.”

Steve couldn’t help but glance around. He hardly knew anyone present, but that hadn’t stopped Tony from introducing him to … well … everyone, even Thor’s mother and father. And the fact that about fifty percent of the men and women present were Dominants meant that Tony had felt the need to be a territorial ass and put his hands all over his body whenever someone so much as looked at him the wrong way – not that there was a wrong way, Tony just liked to exaggerate.

Everyone rose from their seat when Thor and Loki appeared in the doorway accompanied by a soft melody that Steve quickly recognized as ‘The Book of Love’. They wore matching wedding-suits; only Loki’s waistcoat and necktie were emerald green while Thor had settled for red, like a ruby. They were practically glowing, and Steve didn’t miss the way Loki reached for Thor’s hand, the gesture endearing.

They walked down the aisle with music continuing to play in the background, and honestly, Steve hadn’t thought them to be such classic romantics, but here they were, at their wedding, with a romantic song playing as they walked down the aisle together and flowers decorating every wall, chair or other furniture.

A hand curled around his and, without thinking, he held onto it tightly, Tony’s fingers easily intertwining with his. He glanced sideways and found Tony smiling at him. It was such a disarming smile that he momentarily felt lost. He forgot how the world worked when Tony looked at him like that, and since he’d gone to his penthouse at five in the morning a few weeks ago, Tony had started looking at him like that more and more often.

The music ended when Thor and Loki came to a halt before the marriage officiant who started the ceremony by speaking a few words. Thor and Loki barely seemed to have attention for him. They were looking at each other, Loki’s hand still clasped around Thor’s, and Steve couldn’t help but hang onto Tony’s hand more tightly.

When no one spoke up to object to the wedding, vows were exchanged, and Steve didn’t miss the way Loki’s voice wavered as he did. He wouldn’t have guessed that it would be Thor who was the steady one, but then again, he’d always kinda looked like Loki’s rock. Steve admired that about them, was even a bit jealous, but then he felt Tony rub circles into the back of his hand, and Steve knew there was nothing to be jealous about. He had Tony and that was all he needed to know.

They exchanged the traditional ‘I do’ and people cheered. Confetti was thrown in the air. Reluctantly, Steve let go of Tony’s hand, because as Loki’s best man, he had to hand him the golden ring – a more traditional symbol of their love for each other rather than a golden chain – and sign the marriage certificate.

Thor and Loki kissed, and it was a bit messy since they were both laughing with elation. ‘The Book of Love’ began to play again and Thor and Loki, under applause and a rain of congratulations, made their way to the back of the room again. All eyes were turned to them, but Steve only had attention for Tony who returned to his side, a pleased smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

“I hope you’re not getting any ideas,” Tony warned teasingly.

“No, no ideas,” Steve said truthfully.

After all, they were only just dating properly and they were nowhere near where Thor and Loki were. Though the idea of wearing a symbol of Tony's devotion to him was daunting, it didn't scare him as much as it used to anymore. Hell, he’d kinda be thrilled and honored if Tony were to present to him a golden chain to wear around his hips. Still, those were thoughts he kept to himself for now.

“I was just thinking that you look really good,” He added.

Tony glanced down at himself. “It _is_ a magnificent suit,” He smirked, and he even went as far as doing a little twirl. Now look who was Cinderella!

“It really is,” Steve agreed, nodding, before a wicked grin curved the edges of his lips upwards, “And it’s going to look even better on the floor of my bedroom tonight.”

Tony’s head snapped up, eyes having gone wide, surprise and disbelief filling them. “Did you just–” It was one of those rare occasions where Tony’s voice jumped an octave higher and his face turned beautifully red. Steve treasured those moments. “Are you flirting with me, pet?”

As he leaned in, Steve simultaneously pulled Tony forward, and their mouths crashed together in a needy, desperate kiss. Tony’s arms curled around Steve’s waist and his hands grabbed Steve’s ass, squeezing it, uncaring that nearly a hundred people were with them in the room. But no one had any attention for them, though that would soon change if Tony kept groping him like that.

The need for air having become too much, Steve ended the kiss and huffed out a laugh. “Flirting?” He asked innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” And then, because he could be a wicked player if he wanted to, he lowered his voice, looked at Tony from underneath dark eyelashes and added a meaningful, desirous, “ _Master_.”


End file.
